THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 

COLLEGE 

PRESENTED  BY 

Miss  Pearl  Chase 


7YO 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

V? 


HANDEL,  1685-1759. 


The 

Lure  of  Music 

Picturing  the  Human  Side  of  Great 

Composers,  with  Stories  of  Their 

Inspired    Creations 


BY 
OLIN    DOWNES 


Portraits    by 
CHASE    EMERSON 


HARPER  y  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


THE  LURE  OF  Music 

Copyright,  1918,  192%  by  Harper  &  Brothers 
Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


\\   f\    i 

'    SANTA'  BAKi^ARA  COLLEGE 


^1A 


FOREWORD 


FRIEND  of  mine  had  a  graphophone  which  he  oc- 
casionally  enjoyed.  He  used  to  say  that  he  "wasn't 
musical"  but  he  "knew  what  he  liked"  His 
repertory  was  small,  but  pleasing  to  him,  since,  thanks 
to  the  records,  he  had  become  acquainted  with  some  half- 
dozen  pieces  of  fairly  good  music,  and  could  even  whistle 
scraps  of  them  from  memory. 

He  never  knew  how  musical  he  was  until  he  chanced 
one  day  on  a  paragraph  in  a  book  his  daughter  was  read- 
ing, about  one  of  the  compositions  that  he  liked.  He  sud- 
denly realized  that  this  composition  told  the  story  of  an 
episode  in  the  life  of  another  man,  a  human  being  who 
lived,  struggled,  rejoiced,  and  narrated  his  experiences  in 
the  language  of  tones. 

Having  read  the  story,  he  played  the  record  over  again, 
and  discovered  that  it  meant  far  more  to  him  than  it  ever 
had  before.  He  wondered  whether  there  were  stories  about 
his  other  records,  and  after  much  searching  obtained  a 
little  information  on  the  subject  that  now  absorbed  his 
teisure  moments.  He  then  invited  a  number  of  friends 
to  his  home  and  read  them  the  stories  of  the  records  which 
he  played.  His  friends  were  delighted  and  surprised  to 
discover  all  that  the  music,  thus  explained,  meant  to  them. 
When  my  friend  told  me  this,  he  convinced  me  that  a 
great  need  of  to-day  is  a  book  which  shall  bring  to  every 
home  the  treasures  of  the  musical  world. 

It  is  to  him  and  to  his  friends,  and  to  all  those  who 
love  music  and  wish  to  know  its  meaning,  that  this  book  is 
dedicated,  in  the  belief  that  they  will  find  in  the  messages 
of  the  masters  the  enjoyment,  solace,  and  inspiration  in- 
tended for  every  human  heart. 

The  Author. 


The  author  wishes  to  thank  the  Columbia  Grapho- 
phone  Company  for  extending  him  the  use  of  its 
records  to  serve  as  musical  illustrations  of  the  following 
chapters.  In  no  other  way  could  he  so  effectively  bring 
to  his  readers  the  beauty  and  meaning  of  music. 


Grateful    acknowledgment    is   herewith    tendered    to 
FRANCIS  WINANS  GIBSON 

for  the  original  idea  and  the  helpful  co-operation  which 
have  led  to  the  completion  of  this   work. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

FOREWORD vii 

GEORGE  FREDERICK  HANDEL 1 

JOHANN  SEBASTIAN  BACH 11 

GIOACHINO  ANTONIO  ROSSINI 15 

GAETANO  DONIZETTI 29 

VINCENZO  BELLINI 38 

GIUSEPPE  VERDI 46 

LUDWIG  VAN  BEETHOVEN 77 

FRANZ  PETER  SCHUBERT 88 

FELIX  MENDELSSOHN 98 

FREDERIC  FRANCOIS  CHOPIN 108 

FRANZ  LISZT 118 

HECTOR  BERLIOZ        125 

RICHARD  WAGNER 132 

AMBROISE  THOMAS 154 

CHARLES  FRANCOIS  GOUNOD       160 

•JACQUES  OFFENBACH 170 

LEO  DELIBES 176 

GEORGES  BIZET 182 

GIACOMO  PUCCINI 192 

PIETRO  MASCAGNI 205 

RUGGIERO  LEONCAVALLO 209 

JULES  FREDERIC  MASSENET 215 

CAMILLE  SAINT-SAENS .     .  225 

MODERN  FRENCH  COMPOSERS .  232 

ANTONIN  DVORAK 241 

EDVARD  GRIEG 247 

ANTON  RUBINSTEIN 258 

PETER  ILJITCH  TSCHAIKOWSKY 263 

MODERN  RUSSIAN  COMPOSERS 275 

AMERICAN  COMPOSERS 286 

FOLK-SONGS 300 

"KVV  ooq 

I\  K  1          ....................  O£O 

PRONOUNCING  DICTIONARY 325 

RECORD  INDEX  348 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

GEORGE  FREDERICK  HANDEL,  1685-1759 Frontispiece 

ROSSINI,    1792-1868 Facing  p.  16 

DONIZETTI,  1797-1848 "  30 

BELLINI,  1801-1835 "  38 

VERDI,  1813-1901 "  46 

CHOPIN,  1810-1849       "  108 

LISZT,  1811-1886 "  us 

BERLIOZ,  1803-1869 "  126 

THOMAS,  1811-1896 "  154 

GOUNOD,  1818-1893 "  160 

OFFENBACH,  1819-1880 "  170 

DELIBES,  1836-1891 "  176 

BIZET,  1838-1875 "  182 

PUCCINI,  1858 "  192 

MASCAGNI,  1863       "  206 

LEONCAVALLO,  1858 "  210 

MASSENET,  1842-1912 "  216 

SAINT-SAENS,  1835 "  226 

CHABRIER,  1842-1894 "  234 

CHARPENTIER,  1860 "  236 

DVORAK,  1841-1904 "  242 

GRIEG,  1843-1907 "  248 

RUBINSTEIN,  1830-1894 "  258 

TSCHAIKOWSKY,  1840-1893 "  264 

GLINKA,  1804-1857 "  276 

MOUSSORGSKY,  1839-1881 "  278 

RlMSKY-KoRSAKOFF,    1844-1908 "  280 

MACDOWELL,  1861-1908 "  288 

ETHELBERT  NEVIN,  1862-1901 "  292 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


GEORGE  FREDERICK  HANDEL 

GEORGE  FREDERICK  HANDEL  was  a  full- 
blooded,  adventurous,  practical  man,  who  swung 
through  life  magnificently  and  compelled  every- 
body to  acknowledge  his  genius.  As  student,  traveler, 
duelist,  opera  manager,  favorite  of  courts  and  friend 
of  kings,  he  was  tremendous!  He  went  about  clad  in 
knee  breeches,  powdered  wig,  and  the  rest  of  eighteenth- 
century  fashion.  He  quarreled  and  enterprised  and 
speculated.  He  composed  with  furious  rapidity  in 
every  form  known  to  his  time,  and  was  one  of  the  few 
great  masters  who  did  not  have  to  die  to  become  famous. 
Because  of  his  oratorio,  "The  Messiah,"  Handel  is 
commonly  thought  of  as  a  religious  composer.  Religious 
he  was,  but  not  in  the  sectarian  sense.  He  wrote  more 
operas  than  he  wrote  oratorios.  He  knew  life  and  loved 
it.  His  religious  music  is  the  exultant  song  of  the 
Warrior  of  the  Faith,  who  takes  blows  and  gives  them, 
chanting  the  while  his  assurance  of  the  ultimate  victory. 
Handel's  father,  a  barber-surgeon,  wished  his  son  to 
become  a  lawyer.  That  was  an  estimable  profession, 
whereas  the  ordinary  musician  of  the  day  was  a  mounte- 
bank, a  scalawag,  or  worse.  When  George  Frederick 
showed  an  unmistakable  fondness  for  musical  toys  they 
were  taken  away  from  him.  He  was  forbidden  even  to 
listen  to  singing  or  playing.  According  to  the  story, 
an  aunt  smuggled  a  spinet  up  into  the  garret,  and 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

George  Frederick  would  steal  away  to  the  loft  and  play 
to  himself  by  the  hour. 

A  day  came  when  his  father  decided  to  visit  the  local 
duke,  who  was  known  to  be  a  patron  of  music.  Handel 
was  forbidden  to  go,  but  he  ran  after  his  father's  coach 
for  miles,  through  town,  through  country,  until  at  last, 
when  it  was  too  late  to  send  him  home,  he  was  taken  in. 
Handel  gained  an  audience  with  the  duke,  improvised 
for  him,  and  the  duke  became  the  ally  of  his  ambitions. 
It  was  an  occurrence  typical  of  the  energy  and  the 
stubbornness  which  Handel  showed  all  his  life  where 
his  purposes  were  concerned.  An  impetuous,  powerful 
character,  who  could  not  fail! 

Handel  became  a  pupil  of  Zachau,  organist  of  the 
cathedral  at  Halle,  Handel's  home  town.  At  the  end 
of  three  years  Zachau  announced  that  his  pupil  knew 
more  than  he  did.  Thus  Handel,  when  he  went  out 
into  the  world  in  1703  as  a  youth  of  eighteen,  was 
already  well  equipped  as  a  composer.  He  entered  the 
orchestra  of  the  opera  house  at  Hamburg,  amusing 
himself  and  at  first  deceiving  the  players  by  affecting  to 
know  nothing.  He  made  a  warm  friend  of  George 
Mattheson,  a  composer,  critic,  and  a  singer  of  brilliant 
gifts.  It  was  Mattheson's  habit,  when  his  own  opera, 
"Anthony  and  Cleopatra,"  was  being  performed,  to  go 
on  the  stage  as  Anthony,  then,  after  the  death  of  that 
hero,  return  to  his  seat  at  the  harpsichord  and  conduct 
the  orchestra  through  the  rest  of  the  performance. 
Handel,  seated  one  night  in  Mattheson's  place,  refused 
to  give  up  his  position.  There  were  hot  words,  Matthe- 
son slapped  Handel's  face,  and  the  quarrel  was  finished 
in  front  of  the  theater  before  a  crowd  of  cheering  spec- 
tators. It  is  said  that  a  button  on  Handel's  coat  saved 
him  from  the  sword-thrust  of  Mattheson.  The  two 
made  it  up  later;  Mattheson  assisted  enthusiastically  in 
the  production  of  Handel's  first  opera,  "Almira,"  pro- 


duced  with  signal  success  in  1705.  But  Handel  found 
himself  the  butt  of  jealousies  and  intrigues,  and  decided 
to  go  to  Italy. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  providential.  In  his 
travels  Handel  consorted  with  artists  and  great  men  of 
every  sort.  Italian  society  was  then  particularly  brilliant 
and  stimulating  to  the  creative  mind,  and  in  Italy 
Handel  learned  to  combine  with  the  science  already  his 
the  warm  beauty  of  Italian  song. 

He  made  a  sensation  as  a  virtuoso  as  well  as  a  com- 
poser. It  was  Scarlatti,  himself  a  celebrated  player  of 
the  harpsichord,  who  said,  when  Handel  sat  down  to 
play  at  a  masked  ball,  "That  is  either  the  devil  or  the 
Saxon" — as  Handel  was  called  in  Italy. 

"The  Saxon"  came  to  London,  to  the  country  which 
he  was  soon  to  adopt  as  his  own,  in  1710.  The  following 
year  he  made  a  sensation  with  his  opera,  "Rinaldo." 
We  talk  to-day  about  the  extravagance  of  operatic 
production.  In  this  production  hundreds  of  living  birds 
made  their  appearance  in  the  scene  of  the  gardens  of 
the  enchantress  Armida,  and  Addison  complained  of  it 
in  the  Spectator,  "Instead  of  perching  on  the  trees  and 
performing  their  parts,  these  young  actors  either  get 
into  the  galleries  or  put  out  the  candles!"  Every 
lover  of  Handel  is  familiar  with  the  noble  antique  melody 
of  the  maiden,  Almirenda,  as  she  laments  the  power 
of  Armida  over  her  lover,  Rinaldo. 

In  many  pages  of  his  early  work  Handel  stands  re- 
vealed as  one  of  the  world's  greatest  melodists.  That 
his  operas  have  not  held  the  stage  is  due  probably  to 
conventional  libretti  which  he  tried  in  vain  to  vitalize 
with  his  music. 

Handel  had  come  to  London  on  leave  from  the  Elector 

of  Hanover.     He  was  late  returning.     His  absence  made 

trouble  for  him,  and  in  the  meantime  this  same  elector 

because  George  I  of  England.     Handel  conciliated  the 

2  3 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

king  by  composing  twenty-five  pieces  for  a  water  fete 
given  by  that  monarch,  and  conducting  their  perform- 
ance in  a  barge  which  followed  the  king's  boat — pieces 
known  ever  after  as  the  "Water  Music." 

At  first,  settled  in  London,  Handel  was  very  fortunate. 
He  became  music  teacher  of  the  daughters  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  and  it  was  for  his  pupil,  Princess  Anne,  that 
he  wrote  the  harpsichord  piece,  "The  Harmonious 
Blacksmith."  He  was  for  years  chapelmaster  of  the 
Duke  of  Chandos.  He  might  easily  have  continued  in 
sinecure  after  sinecure,  but  that  was  not  Handel.  He 
was  made  of  different  stuff.  In  1720  he  entered  on  a 
phase  of  his  career  which  exposed  him  as  never  before 
to  the  buffets  of  fortune. 

Handel  became  director  of  an  opera  company,  the 
"Royal  Academy  of  Music,"  of  which  the  king  as  well 
as  the  greater  number  of  the  aristocracy  were  patrons. 
In  the  company  was  also  a  rival  composer,  Bononcini. 
Promptly  there  developed  a  Handel-Bononcini  feud,  and 
the  journalists  of  the  day  were  merry.  Thus  John 
Byrom  of  Lancashire: 

"Some  say,  compar'd  to  Bononcini 
That  Mynheer  Handel's  but  a  ninny; 
Others  aver  that  to  him  Handel 
Is  scarcely  fit  to  hold  a  candle: 
Strange,  all  this  difference  there  should  be 
'Twixt  Tweedledum  and  Tweedledee!" 

There  were  more  sensational  events  in  store.  Handel 
invested  in  opera  stars  as  recklessly  and  pretentiously 
as  any  Grau  or  Hammerstein.  He  brought  from  Italy 
the  coloratura  soprano  Cuzzoni.  She  was  capricious 
and  vain  as  a  parrot,  fearing  neither  God  nor  man, 
compelling  managers — until  she  met  Handel — and  public 
alike  to  bow  to  her  follies.  Handel  hauled  her  like  a  sack 
of  meal  to  an  open  window.  He  pointed  downward. 

He  said,  in   German-English  of  his  own,   "Matam,  I 

4 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

know  dat  you  are  a  she  deffil,  but  I  vill  haf  you  know 
dat  I  ana  Beelzebub,  te  chief  of  all  te  deffils!"  and 
threatened  to  throw  her  down  if  she  did  not  sing  his 
music  as  he  commanded.  Cuzzoni  obeyed. 

She  reigned  in  London  about  seven  years.  Then 
Handel  brought  over  her  rival,  Faustina,  and  there 
never  were  such  scenes.  The  polite  world,  even  royalty 
itself,  took  sides  in  the  ridiculous  quarrels  of  these  two 
women,  until  at  last,  when  Bononcini's  opera,  "Asty- 
anax,"  was  produced,  there  was  such  commotion  that 
not  a  note  of  Cuzzoni's  first  solo  could  be  heard.  When 
it  came  Faustina's  turn  there  was  a  riot  in  the  theater. 
Oaths,  challenges,  fisticuffs  were  exchanged  on  the  spot. 
Lords  and  ladies  forgot  themselves,  and  finally  Faustina 
flung  herself  at  Cuzzoni,  and  they  had  it  out,  tooth  and 
nail. 

For  the  moment  the  box  office  triumphed,  but  in  the 
end,  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do,  Handel's  company  failed. 
He  spent  his  fortune  in  backing  a  fresh  organization, 
which  also  went  to  the  wall.  He  composed  his  "Xerxes," 
an  opera,  or  semi-opera,  in  1737,  as  payment  of  a  debt 
to  Heiddiger,  whose  partner  he  had  been  and  to  whom 
he  now  found  himself  under  obligation.  This  is  the  opera 
which  contains  Handel's  most  famous  melody,  "Ombra 
mai  fu,"  universally  known  and  loved  as  the  "Largo." 

Imagine  a  man  paying  a  debt  of  a  few  pounds  with  a 
score  containing  such  music!  Because  of  its  stateliness 
and  dignity  many  have  believed  the  "Largo"  to  be  a 
religious  air.  If  religion  is  gratitude  to  God  for  nature, 
they  are  right,  but  Handel's  intention  was  secular.  He 
was  writing  for  the  stage.  Xerxes  enters  his  garden  in 
the  heat  of  the  day.  He  sinks  down  under  a  plane  tree 
and  sings  a  song  of  gratitude  for  its  beneficent  shade. 
When  the  meaning  of  this  air  is  realized  it  becomes  the 
more  eloquent — the  peace  of  the  hour,  the  blessed  com- 
fort of  the  shade!  As  for  the  title,  "Largo,"  it  is 

5 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

simply  a  direction  in  the  score,  indicating  a  slow  move- 
ment. Columbia  records  of  several  excellent  arrange- 
ments of  the  melody  are  here  appended. 

"  Largo  "  from  "  Xerxes  " 

Played  by  Pablo  Casals  ('cellist).  Columbia  Record    49802 

Played  by  Gatty  Sellers  (pipe  organ),  Columbia  Record  A  6004 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra.  Columbia  Record  A  5736 

Handel  was  now  in  the  depths  of  misfortune.  He  lay 
in  his  bed,  partially  paralyzed.  Former  friends  of  a 
moment,  seeing  him  vanquished,  were  prompt  to  heap 
all  manner  of  abuse  upon  him.  It  was  only  the  interest 
of  the  Princess  of  Wales,  friendly,  like  her  father,  to 
Handel,  that  saved  him  from  being  cast  into  prison  for 
debt.  But  he  was  never  so  great  as  when  faced  by 
apparently  insurmountable  odds.  He  went  to  Aix-la- 
Chapelle,  took  the  baths,  and  returned  to  London,  ready 
for  the  fray.  It  was  at  this  time,  and  reluctantly,  that 
he  turned  definitely  to  the  form  of  the  oratorio.  He 
had  produced  "Esther,"  an  oratorio,  while  chapelmaster 
for  Chandos,  also  the  masque,  "Acis  and  Galatea," 
which  had  characteristics  of  oratorio,  but  these  works 
were  incidental  to  the  composition  of  operas  and  other 
music.  Only  bitter  disaster  led  Handel,  at  the  age  of 
fifty-three,  to  undertake  that  style  of  composition  in 
which,  above  all  others,  he  was  to  become  immortal. 

It  should  be  said  here  that  the  oratorio  and  the  opera 
originated  at  about  the  same  time — toward  the  end  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  The  purpose  of  the  one  form  was 
religious,  of  the  other  dramatic.  The  principal  dis- 
tinctions between  the  two  forms  are  that  opera  is  music 
drama,  performed  by  singers  and  instrumentalists,  with 
costumes  and  scenery,  in  the  theater;  while  oratorio  is 
the  musical  setting  of  a  sacred  poem,  often  of  a  dramatic 
character,  performed  by  singers  and  orchestra,  without 

action,  costumes,  or  scenery,  in  the  church  or  concert  hall. 

6 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Handel  composed  his  oratorio,  "Saul,"  in  1738.  The 
"Dead  March"  from  this  work  is  one  of  the  most  impres- 
sive lamentations  in  music.  It  is  played  as  the  death 
of  Saul  and  Jonathan  is  announced  to  David.  The  sor- 
row of  the  music  is  the  sorrow  of  strong  men.  The  march 
has  this  harmonic  peculiarity,  that,  unlike  most  music 
expressive  of  sadness,  it  is  in  a  major,  not  a  minor  key. 

The  simple,  strong,  expressive  character  of  this  march 
are  characteristic  of  much  of  Handel's  music.  It  is 
not  subtle  or  introspective,  but  rather  the  manly,  direct, 
unpretentious  expression  of  deep  feeling.  Handel's 
music,  furthermore,  never  loses  the  sense  of  sunshine 
and  open  air.  In  the  finest  sense  of  the  word,  it 
remains  always  music  for  the  people. 

The  success  of  "Saul,"  however,  did  not  suffice  to 
save  Handel,  who  had  offended  many  by  his  outspoken- 
ness and  independence,  from  the  plots  and  cabals  which 
sprang  up  against  him  on  every  hand.  Men  were  paid 
to  pull  down  the  placards  in  the  streets  which  announced 
his  concerts.  He  was  almost  ready  to  confess  himself 
defeated  and  seek  fortune  elsewhere  than  in  England 
when  he  announced  a  farewell  concert  for  April  8,  1741. 

He  did  not  know  that  his  disasters  were  at  an  end. 
"NVilliam  Cavendish,  fourth  Duke  of  Devon  and  Lieu- 
tenant Director  of  Ireland,  invited  Handel  to  come  to 
Dublin  and  give  performances  of  his  works.  Handel, 
in  order,  as  he  said,  "to  offer  this  generous  and  polished 
nation  something  new,"  composed  "The  Messiah," 
which  he  completed  in  twenty -three  days,  to  a  text  by 
Charles  Jennens.  The  first  performance  was  in  Dublin, 
on  the  13th  of  April,  1742.  The  fashionable  audience 
received  a  request  that  the  ladies  would  discard  their 
hoopskirts,  and  the  gentlemen  their  swords,  in  order 
to  make  more  room  for  the  public.  The  work  had 
an  overwhelming  success.  It  remains  to-day  the  best 

known  of  all  oratorios.     It  is  the  supreme  manifestation 

7 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

of  the  human  and  dramatic  quality  of  Handel's  genius. 
For  "The  Messiah"  is  not  a  sermon,  but  an  immortal 
song;  not  a  treatise  on  religious  doctrine,  but  a  poem 
of  human  redemption,  a  vast,  inspired  setting  of  the 
greatest  story  ever  told.  The  text  is  taken  literally 
from  the  Bible.  The  work  is  divided  in  three  parts. 
The  first  tells  of  the  longing  of  the  world  for  the  Messiah, 
and  of  His  coming.  The  second  tells  of  the  suffering,  the 
death,  and  the  resurrection  of  Jesus.  The  third  is  a  dec- 
laration of  the  deepest  principles  of  the  Christian  faith. 

Handel  wrote  the  Pastoral  Symphony,  which  fellows 
the  chorus,  "Unto  us  a  child  is  born,"  after  an  air 
which  he  heard  the  shepherds  of  the  Abruzzi  play  on 
their  pipes  one  Christmas  night  on  the  hills  outside 
Rome.  The  simple  little  piece  is  unique  in  the  literature 
of  oratorio.  No  text  is  required  to  tell  us  what  it  means, 
for  the  very  spirit  of  the  moment  is  upon  us — the  birth 
in  the  manger,  and  the  shepherds  who  watched  their 
flocks  by  night. 

The  climax  of  the  oratorio  comes  with  the  "Halle- 
lujah" chorus,  of  which  Handel  himself  said,  "I  did 
think  I  saw  all  heaven  before  me,  and  the  great  God 
Himself."  All  of  Handel's  inspiration,  all  his  skill,  are 
embodied  in  this  triumphal  outpouring.  When  this 
chorus  was  sung  in  Covent  Garden,  London,  in  1743, 
the  effect  was  so  sublime  that  the  king,  followed  as  a 
matter  of  course  by  the  audience,  rose  to  his  feet,  an 
act  which  has  become  a  custom  whenever  this  music  is 
performed  in  English-speaking  countries. 

"  Hallelujah  "  Chorus 
Sung  by  Columbia  Chorus 
Columbia  Record  A  5802 

Through  "The  Messiah"  and  the  oratorios  which 
followed  it  Handel's  position  became  firm  and  incontest- 
able in  England.  He  composed  in  all  fifty -one  operas, 

8 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

twenty-three  oratorios,  and  over  seventy  other  composi- 
tions. His  inspiration  fairly  ran  away  with  him. 
Copies  of  his  scores  are  extant  which  show  that  he 
could  scarcely  write  rapidly  enough  to  keep  up  with  his 
ideas.  He  adopted  a  kind  of  musical  shorthand  as  a 
matter  of  necessity.  It  is  true  that  he  more  than  once 
utilized  the  idea  of  other  composers,  a  matter  in  which 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  license  in  his  time.  Some  one 
called  him  "the  grand  old  thief."  But  when  Handel 
took  another  man's  idea  he  made  more  of  it  than  its 
originator  had  dreamed  of.  He  gave  the  gem  its  rightful 
setting.  A  great  many  creative  artists,  among  them  one 
William  Shakespeare,  have  done  the  same  thing. 

Before  Handel  died  he  was  stricken  blind.  He  was 
composing  the  chorus,  "O  Lord,  how  dark  are  thy 
ways"  for  his  oratorio,  "Jephthah,"  when  an  eye  failed 
him  and  he  had  to  stop  work  for  a  time.  Ten  days 
later  he  resumed  his  labors,  and  composed  some  of  his 
noblest  music  to  these  prophetic  lines,  "Grief  follows 
joy  as  night  the  day."  When  he  finished  the  oratorio,  in 
1751,  his  sight  was  gone.  Conducting  a  performance  of 
"Samson"  the  following  year,  Handel  was  seen  by  a 
deeply  moved  audience  to  tremble  and  grow  pale  as 
the  lament  of  Samson,  "Total  Eclipse,"  in  which  he  has 
so  wonderfully  sounded  the  complaint  of  the  sightless 
hero,  was  sung.  On  April  6,  1759,  he  took  the  organ, 
blind  as  he  was,  to  play  during  a  performance  of  "The 
Messiah."  His  strength  failed  him  in  the  middle  of  the 
movement,  but,  recovering,  he  improvised  with  his 
accustomed  and  incomparable  grandeur.  When  he 
arrived  home  he  took  to  bed,  saying,  "I  want  to  die  on 
Good  Friday,  in  the  hope  of  rejoining  the  good  God,  my 
sweet  Lord  and  Saviour,  on  the  day  of  His  resurrec- 
tion." He  passed  away,  in  fact,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning  of  Holy  Saturday,  April  14th.  The  glory  of 
the  grand  old  warrior  grew  ever  greater.  In  accordance 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

with  his  wish  he  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey. 
There,  to-day,  the  sun  gleaming  down  through  one  of 
the  long  windows  falls  athwart  his  statue,  and  a  page  of 
music,  on  which  is  inscribed  the  first  line  of  the  song, 
"I  Know  That  My  Redeemer  Liveth." 


JOHANN  SEBASTIAN  BACH 

AT  the  window  of  a  little  cottage  in  Thuringia,  by 
the  faint  light  of  the  moon,  the  boy  Bach  copied 
music.  There  was  no  other  way  to  get  the  scores 
which  he  coveted.  His  elder  brother  had  forbidden  him 
to  touch  them.  Night  after  night,  for  six  months,  he 
toiled.  Gradually  he  accumulated  a  library,  to  him 
beyond  price.  Then  his  brother  discovered  Bach  at 
work,  took  from  him  the  precious  manuscripts,  and  it 
was  years  before  the  lad  saw  the  music  again. 

This  was  an  episode  in  the  boyhood  of  John  (Johann) 
Sebastian  Bach  (1685-1750)— "Old  Bach,"  as  he  is 
called  to-day  by  musicians  who  revere  his  name — and 
was  perhaps  the  cause  of  the  blindness  which  came  upon 
him  in  his  last  years.  But  Bach  persisted  in  his  studies. 
It  was  impossible  to  divert  him  from  the  pursuit  of  his 
purpose.  He  became  the  greatest  of  a  family  of  genera- 
tions of  musicians — perhaps  the  greatest  musician  who 
ever  lived.  To  him,  in  the  words  of  Robert  Schumann, 
"music  owes  as  great  a  debt  as  religion  to  its  Founder." 

Bach  was  the  father  of  twenty  children  and  of  compo- 
sitions without  number.  His  life  was  a  quiet  gray.  His 
career  is  a  succession  of  positions  as  organist  and  choir- 
master in  different  corners  of  Germany  in  the  environ- 
ment of  the  hard  times  that  followed  the  Thirty  Years 
War.  He  composed  indefatigably,  spinning  music  as  a 
spider  spins  his  web.  His  neighbors  thought  him  a 
little  queer,  but  respected  his  attainments,  and  they 
got  along  very  well.  That  his  music  was  not  estimated 

at  its  true  worth  while  he  lived  concerned  the  master 

11 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

very  little.  Careless  of  the  opinions  of  his  contempo- 
raries, he  labored  on.  A  few  musicians  held  him  in  awe, 
and  one  day  Frederick  the  Great  invited  Bach  to  play 
the  flute  with  him,  but  it  was  a  hundred  years  after 
Bach's  death  before  the  scope  and  sublimity  of  his  genius 
were  realized. 

No  doubt  Bach's  hardships  had  much  to  do  with  his 
profoundly  religious  spirit.  That  he  was  forced  to  thrift 
will  be  realized  from  a  citation  of  the  yearly  salary  which 
he  received  as  organist  at  Miihlhausen — eighty-five 
gulden,  or  about  fifty-two  dollars  in  money;  twelve 
bushels  of  corn;  three  pounds  of  fish;  two  cords  of  wood; 
six  trusses  of  brushwood  in  place  of  some  tilled  land 
owned  by  the  former  organist.  In  addition,  as  a  special 
favor,  the  council  of  the  church  agreed  to  loan  him  a  cart 
to  bring  his  belongings  from  Arnstad. 

Bach,  nevertheless,  contrived  to  work  his  way,  a  pious, 
upright,  though  two-fisted  citizen,  and  to  owe  no  man  a 
penny.  He  married  twice  and  had  wonderful  help- 
mates in  his  wives.  Both  of  them  were  excellent  mu- 
sicians who  did  copying  for  him  and  sang  and  played  his 
music  in  intervals  of  bringing  up  the  families.  A 
substantial  lot!  And  Bach  created  beautiful  and  sub- 
stantial music,  music  as  different  from  the  stuff  turned 
out  by  the  average  composer  of  to-day  as  the  firm-woven 
cloths  of  Bach's  period  were  different  from  the  shoddy 
now  sold  at  bargain  counters. 

One  of  Bach's  simplest  and  most  beautiful  melodies 
is  the  famous  "Air  for  the  G  String,"  which  has  among 
Bach's  compositions  about  the  place  that  the  celebrated 
"Largo"  holds  among  the  compositions  of  Handel.  It 
was  originally  written  as  a  movement  for  orchestra,  but 
gained  its  name  from  the  fact  that  the  virtuoso  Wilhelmj 
arranged  it  as  a  solo  piece  to  be  played  on  the  G  string 
of  the  violin.  It  is  a  melody  which  grows  always  more 

eloquent  as  one  listens,  not  only  because  of  its  noble 

12 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

beauty,  but  also  because  of  the  wisdom,  the  tenderness, 
the  profound  knowledge  of  life  which  speak  from  every 
measure. 

"Air  for  the  G  String" 
(From  Suite  in  D  Major) 
Played  by  Pablo  Casals 
Columbia  Record  49814 

The  writer  remembers  an  old  Dutch  picture  which 
comes  up  in  his  mind  whenever  he  listens  to  this  melody 
of  Bach.  It  is  a  picture  of  an  old  woman  at  the  window 
of  her  simple  home.  Outside,  the  glory  of  a  sunset 
tinges  the  sky.  Within,  an  open  Bible  on  her  knees, 
sits  the  grandmother,  the  struggles  of  life  behind  her, 
the  day's  work  done,  in  her  heart  the  thankfulness  and 
peace  that  pass  human  understanding.  Of  course  Bach 
had  no  idea  of  this  picture  when,  as  chapelmaster  of  the 
Duke  of  Cothen,  he  turned  out  his  wonderful  composi- 
tion as  a  mere  detail  of  the  day's  work.  But  the  picture 
surely  expresses  the  meaning  of  Bach's  music.  .  .  . 

A  noted  musician  said  to  the  writer:  "I  am  told  that 
Shakespeare  had  as  universal  a  mind  as  Bach,  as  much 
imagination,  as  much  understanding  of  life  and  human 
nature.  But  I  can't  believe  it!" 

Bach  wrote  his  preludes  and  fugues  and  suites  and 
oratorios,  his  pieces  for  clavichord — the  instrument  which 
preceded  the  modern  piano — and  his  vast,  thunderous 
organ  compositions,  as  readily,  when  it  came  to  the 
technic  of  it,  as  you  or  I  would  write  a  letter.  Yet  his 
technic  became  only  the  vehicle  of  his  vision,  and  in  his 
works  can  be  found  most  of  the  ultramodern  harmonies 
discoverable  in  the  music  of  to-day.  He  peered  forward, 
with  the  gaze  of  a  seer,  into  coming  ages.  He  summed 
up  in  his  incredible  accomplishment  all  that  hundreds 
of  lesser  men  had  toiled  and  struggled  through  the 
centuries  to  prepare  for  the  coming  of  such  a  prophet. 
Generations  of  musicians  have  since  chipped  off  little 

13 


THE   LURE   OF   MUSIC 

pieces  from  his  towering  cathedrals  of  tone — enough  to 
give  them  thought  and  material  to  use  for  the  duration 
of  their  lives. 

Bach  was  born  in  the  same  year  as  Handel.  Like 
Handel,  he  was  afflicted  with  blindness  in  the  closing  years 
of  his  life.  Curiously  enough,  they  never  met,  although 
a  meeting  was  once  arranged,  and  it  appears  to  have 
been  Handel  who  was  responsible  for  its  not  taking 
place.  No  greater  contrast  could  be  imagined  than  the 
careers  of  these  two  men.  While  Handel  was  marching 
across  the  world,  making  the  heavens  ring  with  his 
hosannas,  Bach  was  humbly,  obscurely,  greatly  lay- 
ing the  foundation  stones  of  the  music  of  the  next 
three  centuries. 


GIOACHINO  ANTONIO  ROSSINI 

ONE  evening  Napoleon  III  sat  in  his  box  at  the  opera. 
Across  the  hall,  in  a  loge  which  faced  his,  he  ob- 
served a  stout  man  in  a  brown  wig  whose  atten- 
tion was  divided  between  the  performance,  a  box  of  bon- 
bons, and  the  telling  of  a  joke.  The  Emperor  watched 
this  man  for  a  moment,  then  turned  to  an  attendant, 
saying,  "Bring  him  to  me."  The  stout  one  apologized, 
as  he  entered  the  imperial  box,  for  not  being  in  evening 
dress.  "My  friend,"  said  Napoleon,  "ceremony  is  un- 
necessary between  emperors."  His  visitor  was  Gio- 
achino  Rossini,  Emperor  of  Music,  as  Napoleon  was 
Emperor  of  France. 

Gioachino  Antonio  Rossini  was  born  at  Pesaro,  on 
the  Gulf  of  Venice,  February  29,  1792.  His  parents 
were  very  poor.  His  father  was  town  trumpeter  and 
inspector  of  slaughter-houses.  He  played  the  trumpet 
very  badly,  but  was  a  man  of  parts,  and  his  keen  wits 
were  inherited  by  his  son. 

The  child  Rossini  had  little  education.  He  was  ap- 
prenticed to  a  pork  butcher,  and  later  to  one  Prinetti, 
who  sold  wine  and  gave  harpsichord  lessons.  Prinetti 
was  a  curious  person.  It  is  recorded  that  he  played  the 
scale  with  only  two  fingers  and  was 'accustomed  to  go 
to  sleep  standing  up!  He  proved  too  tempting  a  butt 
to  the  natural-born  mimic,  Rossini,  with  the  result  that 

the  apprenticeship  came  to  a  sudden  end. 

15 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

What  Rossini  had  absorbed  he  turned  to  good  account. 
In  the  summer  his  family  made  part  of  a  troupe  of  actors 
who  toured  the  villages  and  towns  about  the  Venetian 
Gulf.  The  father  played  in  the  orchestra.  The  mother 
sang.  Gioachino  learned  to  accompany  the  singers, 
play  the  horn,  sing  a  part,  and  even  try  his  hand  at 
conducting.  Every  one  liked  him  for  the  fun  he  made 
— unless  perchance  he  happened  to  be  making  fun  of 
them. 

In  this  school  of  life  the  boy  learned  much  of  human 
nature  and  the  whims  and  tastes  of  the  great  public. 
People  are  not  very  different  at  heart.  The  song  or 
"turn"  that  was  successful  with  the  peasants  of  the 
gulf  districts  would  just  as  surely,  in  slightly  different 
dress,  win  applause  from  audiences  in  great  cities.  The 
appeal  of  music  and  laughter  is  universal,  and  Rossini 
was  a  lover  of  both. 

Rossini's  lessons  were  not  too  many.  His  achieve- 
ments were  due  to  the  originality  of  his  own  mind  rather 
than  to  the  precepts  of  his  teachers.  Like  most  of  the 
great  masters,  he  composed  first  and  learned  how  after- 
ward! He  read  the  scores  of  master  composers,  which 
told  him  more  than  books  on  counterpoint.  His  father 
remonstrated  with  him  one  day  for  his  erratic  mode  of 
life,  and  urged  him  to  practise  the  trumpet.  Rossini 
answered  that  he  intended  to  compose  operas. 

"In  that  case,"  said  his  father,  "you  will  starve." 

"Father,"  answered  Rossini,  "you  are  as  good  a 
prophet  as  you  are  a  trumpeter!" 

He  quickly  became  so  popular  as  a  composer  that  in 
1813,  when  he  wished  to  leave  the  San  Mose  Theater 
in  Venice  for  the  larger  Fenice  of  the  same  city,  the 
manager  of  the  San  Mose  was  incensed.  By  his  con- 
tract Rossini  had  to  compose  one  more  opera  for  this 
theater.  The  manager  treated  him  very  uncivilly  and 
gave  him  a  libretto  so  poor  that  the  writing  of  serious 

16 


ROSSINI,    1792-1868 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

music  to  it  would  have  been  impossible.  Rossini  turned 
the  trick  against  the  manager  by  writing  the  most  ridicu- 
lous passages  in  which  the  basses  sang  tenor  parts,  the 
sopranos  alto,  the  worst  singer  had  the  most  difficult 
aria,  and  the  violinists  rapped  on  the  tin  candlesticks 
in  front  of  them.  Immediately  after  the  performance 
Rossini  left  for  Milan! 

In  Milan  he  met  an  old  friend,  Prince  Belgiocoso,  who 
invited  him  to  his  home  for  a  week's  hunting-party. 
It  was  a  gay  company.  Every  day  the  prince  and  his 
guests  hunted  in  the  forests,  only  returning  for  dinner. 
Before  dinner  and  between  courses  Rossini  completed 
his  new  opera,  "Tancredi."  Having  covered  music 
sheets  with  almost  unintelligible  scribbling,  he  would 
take  his  dessert  with  him  and  install  himself  at  the 
piano,  saying,  "Come,  everybody,  let  us  see  what  this 
sounds  like."  Each  person  would  sing  a  part,  Rossini 
himself  joining  in,  and  when  it  came  time  for  a  chorus 
all  would  shout  at  the  top  of  their  lungs  to  give  the  effect 
of  a  great  crowd.  No  one  thought  of  bed  till  the  small 
hours  of  the  morning,  and  at  six  the  rising-horn  sounded. 
One  could  not  compose  a  successful  opera  in  that  way 
to-day;  but  at  the  end  of  the  visit  "Tancredi"  was 
finished. 

At  the  performance  in  Venice  Rossini  did  not  at  first 
dare  to  show  himself.  The  Venetian  public  was  still 
smarting  from  the  effect  of  the  tin  candlestick  opera 
produced  only  a  little  time  before.  The  composer  hid 
himself  under  the  stage  where  he  could  see  and  not  be 
seen.  Soon,  however,  the  hostility  of  the  public  changed 
to  applause,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  quick  move- 
ment of  the  overture  the  repeated  bravos  so  heartened 
Rossini  that  he  came  pompously  forth,  took  his  seat  at 
the  piano  in  the  orchestra,  and  conducted  the  remainder 
of  the  opera  himself.  The  overture  kept  its  popularity 
long  after  the  opera  left  the  stage.  The  dreamy  song 

3  17 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

of  the  horn  in  the  opening  measures  is  characteristic  of 
the  genius  for  melody  which  led  the  world  to  the  feet 
of  Rossini.  The  quick  movement  which  follows  has 
the  true  Rossinian  wit  and  animation,  and  the  spon- 
taneous quality  which  always  distinguished  this  man's  art. 

"  Tancredi  Overture  " 

Played  by  H.  M.  Grenadier  Guards  Band 
Columbia  Record  A  5773 

In  the  following  years  Rossini  introduced  many  im- 
portant and  admirable  changes  in  Italian  opera.  He 
shortened  the  recitatives  (passages  of  musical  declama- 
tion), which  had  become  pompous  and  tiresome.  He 
developed  the  orchestra.  In  addition  to  this,  he  was  the 
first  man  to  write  "arias"  (airs)  as  he  expected  them  to 
be  sung.  Before  his  time  the  composers  wrote  only  the 
bare  outlines  of  their  melodies,  leaving  it  to  the  singers  to 
fill  in  with  endless  trills  and  flourishes  to  suit  themselves. 
With  Rossini's  changes  the  opera  became  more  dramatic 
and  lifelike  than  it  had  been  in  the  hands  of  his  prede- 
cessors, and  less  a  mere  exhibition  of  vocal  gymnastics. 

In  1816  Rossini  produced  that  opera  by  which  he  is 
best  known  to-day,  the  incomparable  "Barber  of  Se- 
ville." He  completed  this  work  in  from  thirteen  to 
fifteen  days — there  is  a  dispute  as  to  which  number  is 
correct.  We  think  it  would  have  been  a  pity  if  he  had 
taken  more  time  to  write  it.  It  was  not  for  him  to 
plod  and  philosophize  in  his  music.  His  genius  flashed 
and  flamed.  The  Promethean  fire  descended  on  the 
music  page,  and  in  a  trice  a  masterpiece  was  born. 

The  libretto  of  "The  Barber"  is  based  on  the  comedy 
of  Beaumarchais.  Doctor  Bartolo  is  determined  to  marry 
his  charming  young  ward,  Rosina,  but  the  Count 
Almaviva,  on  a  visit  to  his  estates  near  Seville,  has  seen 
the  girl  and  is  stealthily  paying  court  to  her,  disguised 
as  a  poor  student  named  Lindoro.  With  the  help  of 

18 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Figaro,  the  quick-witted  barber  of  Seville,  the  intentions 
of  Bartolo  are  defeated  and  the  count  wins  his  bride. 
The  air  "Ecco  Ridente"  is  sung  by  the  count  as  a 
serenade  in  the  early  morning  under  the  window  of 
Rosina.  It  is  a  tenor  solo  in  the  florid  and  melodious 
style  of  Rossini's  day,  in  which,  to  quote  the  scintillating 
Theophile  Gautier,  "the  Signor  Rossini  has  embroidered 
marvelous  melodies  upon  the  meaningless  words  of  the 
Italian  song." 

"  Ecco  ridente  in  cielo  "  ("  Dawn  with  her  rosy  mantle  ") 

Sung  by  Charles  Hackett 

Columbia  Record  49604 

The  count,  longing  for  a  sight  of  Rosina  on  the  balcony, 
dismisses  his  followers  and  ponders  how  he  may  win 
his  way  to  her  side.  Enter  Figaro,  the  village  barber, 
with  his  guitar.  Lo,  the  factotum!  The  town  busy- 
body, who  knows  everything  and  does  everything, 
handles  the  razor,  the  lancet,  the  combs,  connives  at 
love  intrigues,  marries  the  girls  and  widows,  and  pockets 
the  snug  perquisites  of  the  business.  They  all  need  him. 

"Figaro!" 

"I'm  here!" 

"Figaro!" 

"I'm  coming!" 

Figaro  here,  there,  and  everywhere!  What  a  life! 
This  introduces  the  rollicking  solo,  "Largo  al  facto- 
tum." Only  in  Italian  could  a  singer  patter  it  out  as 
it  is  pattered  by  Figaro  to  the  gay  lilt  of  Rossini's  or- 
chestra. "Passing  from  mouth  to  mouth,"  said  Gau- 
tier, "it  has  traveled  as  far  as  Polynesia,  and  the  natives 
of  the  Southern  seas  hum  it  as  they  cook  then*  break- 
fast of  shell-fish !" 

"  Largo  al  factotum  "  ("  Way  for  the  factotum  ") 
Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari  Columbia  Record  49181 

Sung  by  Giuseppe  Campanari  Columbia  Record  A  5777 

19 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

The  count  and  Figaro  plot  together.  Meanwhile 
Rosina,  alone  in  the  house,  sings  the  cavatina,  "Una 
voce  poco  fa."  The  song  commences  coquettishly.  In 
Rosina's  hand  is  a  letter.  She  has  barkened  to  the 
voice  of  her  lover,  and  has  already  resolved  to  become 
his.  A  little  later,  taking  up  a  laughing  melody  first 
announced  by  the  orchestra,  she  sings,  "I'm  as  gentle  as 
a  dove  ("lo  son  docile") — provided — that  I  have  my 
own  way!"  ("faro  giocar,  faro  giocar!"),  a  sentiment 
repeated  with  emphasis  as  the  aria  comes  to  an  end. 

i 

"  Una  voce  poco  fa  "  ("  The  voice  I  heard  e'en  now  ") 

"  lo  son  docile  "  ("  A  docile  mind  ") 

Sung  by  Eugenie  Bronskaja 

Columbia  Record  A  5209 

A  little  later  in  the  opera  Don  Basilio,  the  greasy 
music-teacher  of  Rosina,  appears.  He  is  Bartolo's  spy 
and  paid  agent,  as  well  as  the  young  lady's  instructor 
in  song.  Bartolo  tells  Basilio  that  Rosina  has  been 
dropping  notes  over  the  balcony  to  a  serenader,  also 
that  he  hears  the  Count  Almaviva,  reputed  unusually 
successful  with  ladies,  is  in  town.  He  rightly  suspects 
the  count  of  attentions  to  his  wrard.  How  prevent  this? 
He  looks  at  Basilio.  That  astute  gentleman,  suiting  ac- 
tion and  song  to  the  word,  sings  the  "Calumny"  aria. 
They  will  give  the  count,  he  says,  such  a  reputation  that 
he  will  have  to  fly  the  town.  It  shall  be  done  by  means 
of  scandal!  Calumny!  Does  Bartolo  realize  the  power 
of  this  weapon?  Calumny  (La  Cahmnia)  starts  as  a  run- 
ning stream,  a  whispering  zephyr,  but  before  you  know 
it,  it  is  resounding  like  the  roar  of  a  cannon  ("Come 
un  colpo  di  canno-o-ne,  come  canno-o-ne").  The  laugh- 
ing accompaniment  of  the  instruments,  the  unction 
with  which  the  solemn-faced  Basilio  delivers  his  text, 
the  melody  that  fairly  bubbles  from  the  pen  of  the 

composer,   make  a   composition   of  irresistible  humor. 

20 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"  La  calunnia  e  un  venticello  "  ("  Calumny  like  a  zephyr  ") 
Sung  by  Jose  Mardones 
Columbia  Record  A  5200 

The  conversation  of  these  two  worthies,  however,  has 
been  overheard  by  Figaro.  As  they  disappear  the  barber 
steps  from  his  hiding-place  with  a  message  for  the  young 
mistress.  Bartolo  and  Basilio  are  drawing  up  a  marriage 
contract,  while  the  poor  student,  Lindoro,  is  dying  of 
love  for  a  certain  maiden  named  Rosina.  This  brings 
the  duet,  "Dunque  io  son." 

"Can  I  believe  it?"  cries  Rosina.  "But  then,"  be- 
ginning to  sing  up  the  scale  like  a  lark,  "I  had  already 
suspected  it."  The  song  becomes  more  brilliant  and 
joyous  as  she  realizes  her  happiness.  "Yes,"  says 
Figaro,  ."it's  true.  He  loves  you  to  distraction  "- 
imitating  humorously  the  passages  Rosina  has  just  been 
singing.  "And  when,"  asks  Rosina,  "can  I  see  him?" 
"Hark!"  ("Zitto,  zitto!")  answers  the  messenger.  "He 
is  near.  He  waits  only  one  small  word  from  you. 
Here!  Write,  saying  you  expect  him!"  "Write  him!" 
cries  Rosina.  "Impossible!"  Figaro  presses  her.  "Oh, 
come,  a  note  ("di  biglietto")  of  but  two  lines,  and 
it  is  done."  Rosina  slyly  takes  from  her  pocket  the 
letter  already  written.  "Well,  here  it  is"  ("eccolo 
qua").  Even  Figaro,  adept  in  intrigue,  is  astonished. 
So  this  is  Miss  Innocence,  with  her  hesitations  and 
refusals!  Figaro  hurries  off  with  the  missive  for 
Lindoro. 

"  Dunque  io  son  "  ("  Can  I  believe  it  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos  and  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  49612 

In  the  second  act  occurs  the  lesson  scene,  in  which 
the  count  enters,  disguised  as  the  musical  assistant  of 
Basilio,  and  makes  love  to  Rosina  behind  the  piano. 

21 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

The  trio  composed  for  this  scene  was  lost,  as  was  also 
the  original  overture  of  the  opera.  For  this  overture  the 
overture  to  Rossini's  "Elisabetta,  regina  dTnghilterra," 
which  was  in  turn  transplanted  from  an  earlier  opera, 
"Aureliano  in  Palmyra,"  is  customarily  substituted,  while 
in  place  of  the  lost  trio  Rosina  sings  to  her  admiring 
guardian  whatever  show-piece  the  officiating  prima  donna 
desires.  Grisi  and  Alboni  sang  Rode's  "Air  and  Varia- 
tions.'* Patti  selected  "II  Bacio."  Mme.  Barrientos 
sings  the  brilliant  waltz  song,  "Voce  di  primavera." 

"  Voce  di  primavera  "   ("  Voices  of  springtime  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record  49171 

The  plot  is  nearly  spoiled  by  the  untimely  arrival  of 
Basilio,  the  real  music-teacher,  but  Figaro's  wit  is  finally 
victorious,  and  Bartolo,  recognizing  at  last  the  futility 
of  his  precautions,  confers  his  blessing. 

Rossini,  who  under  his  careless  exterior  was  a  very 
brilliant,  observant,  and  reflective  man,  knew  that 
much  of  his  music  would  not  live,  but  he  predicted  that 
one  act  of  his  "William  Tell  "  and  the  whole  of  his 
"Barber  of  Seville"  would  last  for  a  century.  History 
has  proved  the  sound  judgment  displayed  in  this  proph- 
ecy. Nevertheless,  the  first  performance  of  "  The 
Barber  of  Seville"  was  one  of  the  worst  failures  in 
the  history  of  opera.  Rossini,  by  venturing  to  set  this 
subject  to  music,  had  offended  the  elderly  composer, 
Paisiello,  who  had  also  written  an  opera,  very  popular 
at  that  time;  on  the  same  theme.  Paisiello's  followers 
gathered  in  the  theater  to  see  that  the  new  work  should 
not  be  a  success,  and  the  cursedness  of  all  animate  and 
inanimate  things  seemed  conspiring  to  aid  them.  Ros- 
sini, entering  the  orchestra  pit  in  a  showy  suit  of  vicuna 
with  golden  buttons,  a  gift  of  the  manager,  Barbaja, 
was  received  with  a  shout  of  laughter.  In  the  first  act 

22 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Almaviva  was  to  sing  a  Spanish  serenade  to  Rosina  be- 
neath her  window  and  accompany  himself  on  the 
guitar.  He  had  forgotten  to  tune  his  instrument  and, 
in  attempting  to  do  this  before  the  tittering  onlookers, 
a  string  broke.  The  audience  was  hilarious.  After 
much  preparation  Almaviva  began  again.  The  people 
listened  only  long  enough  to  catch  the  air,  which  they 
then  commenced  to  hum,  sing,  and  whistle  in  a  mock- 
ing manner  until  not  a  note  of  the  original  melody 
could  be  heard.  It  was  for  this  unfortunate  air  that 
Rossini  substituted  at  the  second  performance  the 
"Ecco  Ridente."  Later  on  Basilio,  entering,  stumbled 
over  a  trap-door,  which  increased  the  confusion.  The 
excitement  grew.  At  the  beginning  of  the  magnificent 
finale  of  the  first  act  calamity  reached  its  climax.  A 
black  cat  appeared  on  the  stage.  Figaro  drove  it 
one  way,  Bartolo  another,  and  in  avoiding  Basilio  it 
tangled  itself  in  Rosina's  skirts.  Nothing  could  still 
the  uproar,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  curtain  was 
lowered. 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  a  group  of  the  leading 
singers  met  to  condole  with  Rossini,  whom  they  imag- 
ined as  pacing  the  floor  in  despair  and  mortification, 
they  found  him  in  bed  fast  asleep — or  pretending  to  be. 
He  was  at  heart  a  supersensitive  man,  but  he  would 
have  died  before  admitting  his  chagrin  to  the  world. 
He  feigned  illness  the  next  night,  in  order  to  avoid 
conducting.  But  the  tide  turned,  and  the  opera 
triumphed,  as  it  has  triumphed  ever  since. 

During  the  next  eight  years  Rossini  visited  many 
cities  —  Naples,  Milan,  Verona,  Vienna  —  composing 
some  twenty  operas  besides  many  smaller  works.  In 
1823  he  was  back  in  the  scene  of  so  many  of  his  operatic 
ventures,  Venice,  where  he  had  contracts  for  two  new 
works,  in  each  of  which  the  black-eyed  Madame  Col- 
bran,  Rossini's  wife,  was  to  sing  the  leading  role. 

23 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"  Semiramide "  was  first  performed  at  the  Fenice 
Theater,  February  3,  1823.  The  text,  by  Rossi,  is  a 
characteristically  Italian  operatic  version  of  Voltaire's 
tragedy,  "Semiramis."  Rossini  spent  unusual  care  and 
thought  on  this  work,  and  was  disappointed  when  it 
proved  too  serious  for  the  public  of  his  day.  The 
overture,  however,  with  its  portentous  introduction, 
won  immediate  favor. 

"  Overture  to  '  Semiramide  '  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5873 

An  admirable  example  of  the  decorative  and  melodious 
style  of  the  period,  in  which  Rossini  excelled,  is  the 
aria  sung  by  the  queen,  Semiramis,  as  she  sings  of  her 
love  for  Arsaces,  the  young  and  victorious  commander 
of  the  Babylonian  armies. 

"  Bel  raggio  lusinghier  "   ("  Bright  ray  of  hope  ") 

Sung  by  Celestina  Boninsegna 

Columbia  Record  30359 

Leaving  Italy,  Rossini  went  to  London,  where  he 
had  sensational  success,  then  proceeded  to  Paris,  in  or 
near  which  he  passed  the  remaining  years  of  his  life. 
There,  on  the  3d  of  August,  1829,  he  produced  his 
serious  masterpiece,  "William  Tell,"  a  grand  opera, 
originally  in  five  acts,  after  the  heroic  and  semi-historical 
drama  of  Schiller.  The  subject  offered  high  incentive 
to  a  dramatic  composer,  although  the  libretto,  pieced 
together  by  several  different  people,  was  far  from  per- 
fect for  thoughtful  purposes,  nor  was  it  overfaithful  to 
the  drama  of  Schiller.  The  opera  has  three  magnificent 
stage  pictures:  1.  "The  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons  "- 
Lake  Lucerne — with  a  Swiss  village  in  the  distance. 
$.  The  gathering  of  the  Swiss  patriots  in  a  clearing  high 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

up  on  the  side  of  a  snow-capped  peak.  3.  The  scene 
of  the  trial  in  which  Tell,  forced  to  obey  the  tyrant 
Gessler,  shoots  with  his  arrow  an  apple  from  the  head 
of  his  little  son.  The  action  of  the  opera  is  summarized 
in  the  superb  overture,  which  Hector  Berlioz  described 
as  a  great  symphony  in  four  parts.  The  lofty  and  con- 
templative introduction  expresses  the  peace  and  soli- 
tude of  nature,  undisturbed  by  human  passions.  The 
second  part  depicts  the  rising  of  the  storm  on  the  lake, 
after  which  Gessler  meets  his  end,  and  a  first  blow  is 
struck  for  Swiss  liberty.  This  is  one  of  the  most  thrill- 
ing passages  of  storm  music  in  the  literature  of  the  art. 

"  Overture  to  '  William  Tell  '  " — Parts  I  and  II 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6129 

The  third  part  of  this  "symphony"  is  pastoral  in 
character.  A  flute,  solo,  plays  an  air  said  to  be  of 
Swiss  origin.  "The  triangle,"  said  Berlioz,  "struck 
at  intervals,  is  the  bell  of  the  flock  while  shepherds  sing 
their  songs."  The  finale  is,  battle  music,  stirring  to-day 
as  it  was  ninety  years  ago — the  gathering  of  the  cantons, 
the  deliverance  of  the  people.  It  is  difficult  to  praise 
sufficiently  the  grand  outlines,  the  musical  inspiration, 
the  dramatic  force  of  this  work. 

"  Overture  to  '  William  Tell '  " — Parts  II  and  III 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6130 

Strange  to  say,  "William  Tell"  was  the  last  opera 
Rossini  composed.  With  it  he  brought  to  a  close  his 
career  as  dramatic  composer  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven. 
Why,  no  one  knows.  Various  reasons  have  been  ad- 
vanced— Rossini's  proverbial  laziness;  his  fear  of  the 
success  of  Meyerbeer,  his  rival,  then  winning  the  favor 

25 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

of  Paris;  his  annoyance  and  resentment  when,  following 
the  July  Revolution  of  1830,  he  saw  "William  Tell"  give 
place  to  inferior  works  on  the  stage  of  the  Academy.  But 
these  reasons  are  hardly  adequate.  A  great  composer 
must  create,  whether  he  wishes  it  or  no.  Rossini 
stopped,  inexplicably,  in  mid-career. 

The  only  important  composition  which  appeared  be- 
tween the,  performance  of  "William  Tell"  in  1829  and 
Rossini's  death  at  Paris,  November  13,  1868,  was  the 
performance  of  his  "Stabat  Mater."  This  work  was 
composed  in  1832,  although  not  performed  in  its  en- 
tirety until  ten  years  later.  Rossini  wrote  the  first 
six  movements  for  Serior  Varela,  a  Spaniard  whom  Ros- 
sini met  while  traveling  in  Spain.  The  remaining  four 
numbers  were  finished  by  Tadolini,  Rossini  being  ill  and 
pressed  for  time.  Conditions  were  that  Don  Varela 
should  never  part  with  his  score,  that  it  should  be  given 
every  year  during  Lent  at  his  church,  that  it  never  should 
be  performed  in  public  for  profit.  After  Don  Varela's 
death,  his  heirs  sold  the  manuscript  to  a  Parisian  pub- 
lisher. There  were  various  complications;  a  lawsuit 
followed  involving  several  people.  It  was  finally  won 
by  Rossini,  who  replaced  Tadolini's  numbers  for  the 
"Stabat  Mater"  and  had  the  work  thus  performed  on 
the  7th  of  January,  1842. 

The  "Stabat  Mater"  is  a  Latin  church  song  sung  in 
Catholic  churches  at  the  festival  of  the  Seven  Sorrows 
of  Mary,  and  generally  during  Lenten  service.  It  is 
the  setting  of  a  medieval  poem  probably  written  by  a 
Franciscan  monk  of. the  thirteenth  century.  There  is 
the  thought  of  the  Mother  of  Christ  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross  and  the  wish  of  humanity  to  share  her  sorrow  with 
her.  The  text  has  been  given  innumerable  different 
musical  settings,  of  which  that  by  Rossini  is  one  of  the 
most  famous. 

The  following  numbers  are  among  the  most  impressive 

26 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

features  of  the  work.  "  Cujus  Animam  "  is  a  tenor  solo 
which  narrates  the  suffering  of  Christ  on  the  cross.  The 
rhythm  of  the  accompaniment  is  almost  martial.  The 
musical  style  is  that  of  the  stage  rather  than  the  church. 
It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  the  composer  has 
written  a  splendid  melody  for  the  tenor  voice. 

"  Cujus  animam  "  ("  Lord,  vouchsafe  Thy  loving-kindness  ") 
Sung  by  Charles  Harrison 
Columbia  Record  A  5833 

The  final  number  of  the  work,  a  brilliant  climax,  is 
the  "Inflammatus,"  for  solo  voice,  chorus,  and  orchestra. 
Rossini  employs  his  solo  voice  to  the  greatest  advantage 
by  making  it  soar  to  a  high  C  over  the  massed  harmonies 
of  the  chorus. 

"  Inflammatus  "  ("  To  Thy  holy  care  elected  ") 
Sung  by  Grace  Kerns,  with  chorus 
Columbia  Record  A  5833 

The  "Stabat  Mater"  has  been  called,  with  some  jus- 
tice, theatrical  music.  It  should  be  remembered  that  the 
Italian  is  emotional  and  dramatic  rather  than  austere 
and  contemplative  in  his  religion.  Rossini  always  com- 
posed in  the  operatic  manner. 

This  work,  with  the  exception  of  some  short  choral 
compositions  of  little  value,  was  Rossini's  last  wTord  in 
music.  Accused  of  laziness,  he  answered  that  with  him 
it  was  a  creed.  Nevertheless,  he  had  produced  in 
nineteen  years  over  thirty  works  for  the  stage.  If  he 
was  indolent  of  body  his  mental  activity  was  prodigious. 
The  story  of  his  having  preferred  to  write  another  piece 
of  music  to  recovering  sheets  he  had  dropped  under  his 
bed  is  probably  true.  But  the  man  who  can  write  one 
composition  in  little  more  time  than  it  would  take  him 
to  pick  up  another  has,  perhaps,  a  right  to  his  own 
methods  of  work. 

Rossini  was  one  of  the  most  gifted  melodists  in  the 

27 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

history  of  his  art,  a  man  born  for  success,  knowing  his 
public  and  how  to  reach  it,  yet  a  bold  innovator  and 
reformer.  An  epoch  of  Italian  opera  is  represented  in 
his  music.  Even  when  he  deliberately  composed  dis- 
play pieces  for  singers  his  genius  turned  what  he  touched 
to  gold,  and  so  fascinated  the  people  that  it  was  long 
before  opera  in  Italy  could  recover  from  the  endeavors 
of  other  composers  to  imitate  an  inimitable  master. 


GAETANO   DONIZETTI 

A  SCOTCHMAN  left  his  bluebells  and  heather  to 
seek  fortune  in  the  wars.  His  name  was  Izett,  son 
of  a  weaver  of  Perthshire.  He  was  soon  captured 
by  a  French  general,  who  made  him  his  secretary  and 
took  him  first  to  France  and  later  to  Italy.  In  Italy  Izett 
became  Izetti.  Izetti  settled  and  married.  As  a  com- 
pliment, some  say,  to  the  lady,  he  prefixed  the  syllable 
"Don"  to  his  name.  But  Fortune  did  not  deal  very 
kindly  with  this  Donizetti.  He  ended  his  life  in  a 
basement  in  Bergamo,  a  little  town  in  the  north  of 
Italy.  In  this  place  his  grandson,  Gaetano,  a  com- 
poser of  genius,  was  born  November  29,  1797.  Writ- 
ing of  his  birthplace  to  his  teacher,  Mayer,  in  a  later 
year,  he  said,  "I  was  born  underground  —  Borge 
Cavale;  you  had  to  go  down  by  the  cellar  stairs,  where 
no  light  ever  penetrated." 

Donizetti's  father,  a  minor  official  at  the  Monte  di 
Pieta,  was  paid  by  that  civil  institution  a  salary  of  about 
one  hundred  and  ten  dollars  a  year.  The  mother,  in 
the  intervals  of  her  family  duties,  wove  linen.  Neither 
parent  had  any  musical  inclination,  but  one  of  Gae- 
tano's  brothers  became  leader  of  the  city  band  and 
ultimately  concert-master  for  the  seraglio  of  the  Sultan 
in  Constantinople.  The  other  brother  was  a  tailor 
whom  Gaetano  more  than  once  helped  in  his  shop.  In 
this  shop  there  worked  also  the  celebrated  tenor,  Ru- 
bini,  who  was  later  to  sing  in  operas  composed  by  his 
fellow- workman,  and  who  died  a  millionaire. 

Donizetti,  whose  bent  was  toward  the  arts,  finally 

29 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

succeeded  in  inducing  his  parents  to  send  him  to  a 
school  of  music  which  had  recently  been  opened  in  Ber- 
gamo by  Simon  Mayer.  Mayer  was  an  uncommonly 
practical  and  serious  teacher,  and  Donizetti  made  such 
rapid  progress  under  him,  especially  in  singing  and 
violin-playing,  that  a  public  subscription  was  taken 
to  send  him  to  Bologna,  where  he  became  a  pupil  of 
Padre  Mattei,  the  teacher  of  Rossini. 

It  is  said  that  a  dispute  arose  between  Donizetti  and 
his  father  as  to  the  former's  vocation,  and  that,  as  a 
result  of  this  dispute,  Donizetti  voluntarily  enlisted  in 
the  army.  An  officer  in  a  regiment  quartered  at  Naples, 
he  soon  became  very  popular  because  of  his  agreeable 
personality  and  his  great  musical  talent.  At  last  he 
met  a  manager  who  gave  him  the  opportunity  which 
he  had  been  impatiently  awaiting,  a  commission  to 
write  an  opera.  This  opera,  performed  in  Venice  in  the 
autumn  of  1819,  was  enough  of  a  success  to  give  the 
composer  a  start  with  the  public.  His  first  real  triumph, 
however,  came  three  years  later  with  his  "Zoraide  di 
Granata"  in  1822.  The  work  made  so  strong  an  im- 
pression that  Donizetti  was  released  from  military  ser- 
vice and  henceforth  was  free  to  devote  himself  to  a 
composer's  career. 

He  proceeded  to  compose  with  extraordinary  rapid- 
ity. He  was  poor,  which  made  it  necessary  for  him 
to  work  in  haste,  but  he  had  a  fertile  invention,  an 
incredible  facility,  and  a  technic  which  was  both  sub- 
stantial and  brilliant  for  his  time  and  his  school.  He 
was  very  accurate  in  putting  down  his  ideas,  and 
had  seldom  to  make  corrections.  He  did  keep  a 
little  ivory  eraser  at  his  side,  but  it  was  less  a  tool 
than  a  talisman.  His  father  had  given  him  this  keep- 
sake, with  the  gruff  remark  that  if  Gaetano  was  de- 
termined to  be  a  musician  he  had  better  write  as  little 

rubbish  as  possible! 

so 


DONIZETTI,  1797-1848 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

In  1832  the  manager  of  the  theater  in  Milan  found 
that  the  composer  engaged  to  provide  the  opera  for  the 
opening  night  of  the  season  would  be  unable  to  fulfil 
his  contract.  In  despair  he  went  to  Donizetti.  In  a 
fortnight  Donizetti  produced  an  opera  which,  performed 
on  the  12th  of  May,  proved  the  greatest  success  of  the 
season. 

This  opera  was  the  melodious  and  charming  comedy 
"L'Elisir  d'Amore"  ("The  Elixir  of  Love").  The 
story  is  similar  to  that  used  by  Gilbert  and  Sullivan  in 
"The  Sorcerer."  Adina  (Act  I)  is  loved  by  two  men, 
Nemorino,  a  young  farmer,  and  Belcore,  the  dashing 
sergeant.  She  seems  to  favor  Belcore,  though  in  reality 
she  prefers  the  handsome  farmer.  But  Nemorino  is 
shy.  Donizetti  was  fortunate  in  finding  a  melody  ex- 
pressive of  his  plaint,  as,  distracted  with  passion, 
Nemorino  mourns  the  fact  that  to  her  who  has  beauty, 
charm,  and  wealth  he  can  offer  only  an  honest  love. 

"  Quanto  e  bella  "   ("  How  dearly  I  love  her  ") 
Sung  by  Alessandro  Bonci 
Columbia  Record  A  1408 

Adina  pointedly  reads  a  story  of  a  certain  "elixir  of 
love"  and  its  wonderful  effect  on  a  lady  who  had  ap- 
peared indifferent  to  her  suitor.  Nemorino  wishes  that 
he  might  discover  this  magic  potion.  Dulcamara,  a 
traveling  mendicant,  appears.  From  this  fraud  Ne- 
morino with  his  last  penny  purchases  what  he  believes 
to  be  "the  elixir  of  love."  Actually  it  is  a  bottle  of 
strong  wine.  But  it  serves.  There  comes  the  news, 
which  spreads  quickly,  of  the  death  of  a  rich  uncle  of 
Nemorino,  of  whose  fortune  the  nephew,  though  as 
yet  ignorant  of  the  fact,  is  the  sole  heir!  The  village 
girls  make  up  to  Nemorino,  who  believes  this  to  be  the 
working  of  the  love  potion.  Adina,  piqued,  bursts  into 

tears.     Nemorino  is  deeply  affected,  and  sings  the  beau- 

4  "31 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

tiful  romanza,  "Una  furtiva  lagrima,"  one  of  the  most 
graceful  and  tender  of  Donizetti's  inspirations. 

"  Una  furtiva  lagrima  "  ("  A  hidden  tear  ") 

Sung  by  Florencio  Constantino 

Columbia  Record  A  5109 

Although  this  simple  air  has  a  range  of  but  nine 
tones,  it  is  a  proof  of  what  a  great  composer  can  do  with 
the  most  unpretentious  material.  The  song  had  been 
haunting  Donizetti  for  days.  Romani  was  not  willing 
at  first  to  write  the  text  for  the  music,  saying  that 
this  would  interfere  with  the  development  of  the  last 
act.  Donizetti  insisted,  and  at  last  the  verses  were 
written.  The  composer  appears  in  this  case  to  have 
been  in  the  right.  It  is  the  appropriate  moment  in 
the  opera  for  the  romanza  which  reconciles  the  lovers 
and  brings  a  happy  conclusion. 

"L'Elisir  d'Amore"  ran  for  thirty -nine  nights,  with 
constantly  increasing  enthusiasm  of  the  public.  It 
was  dedicated  "to  the  fair  sex  of  Milan."  They  had 
indeed  been  most  cordial  to  the  composer.  He  was 
already  at  the  flood-tide  of  a  remarkable  personal 
popularity,  which  he  never  lost.  A  well-favored  youth, 
a  brilliant  conversationalist,  fond  of  pleasure,  and,  they 
say,  not  a  little  successful  in  affairs  of  the  heart,  he  was 
everywhere  feted  and  acclaimed. 

Scotland,  the  land  of  Donizetti's  ancestry,  inspired 
more  than  one  of  his  operas.  Cammarano  wrote  the 
libretto  of  the  opera  founded  on  the  story  of  Walter 
Scott's  "Bride  of  Lammermoor."  This  opera,  "Lucia 
di  Lammermoor,"  commonly  accounted  the  greatest  of 
Donizetti's  productions,  was  first  performed  at  Naples, 
September  26,  1835. 

The  air,  "Regnava  nel  silenzio,"  from  the  first  act, 
is  sung  by  Lucy  as  she  awaits  her  lover,  Edgar,  in  a 
grove  where,  legend  says,  a  Ravenswood  once  killed  a 

32 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

maiden  who  had  deceived  him.  This  song  is  notable 
for  its  suavity,  refinement,  and  delicacy  of  style.  The 
harp  accompaniment  has  a  charm  of  its  own,  as  Lucy 
narrates  the  old  legend. 

"  Regnava  nel  silenzio  "  ("  Silence  reigns  over  all ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record  48628 

Edgar  appears.  He  must  depart  on  a  mission  of 
state.  Vows  are  plighted,  in  a  duet  which  is  one  of  the 
loveliest  melodies  in  the  opera. 

"  Verrano  a  te  sulT  aure  "  ("  My  sighs  shall  be  borne,"  etc.) 

Sung  by  Charles  Hackett  and  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record  49766 

Lucy's  brother,  Henry,  is  heavily  pressed  for  debts, 
and  can  save  himself  only  if  his  sister  marries  the  rich 
Sir  Arthur  Bucklaw.  He  calls  Lucy  to  him,  tells  her 
that  Edgar  is  faithless,  shows  her  a  forged  letter,  and 
finally  secures  her  consent  to  marry  Arthur.  A  wed- 
ding is  hastily  arranged.  The  ring  is  no  sooner  on 
Lucy's  finger  than  Edgar,  returning  from  a  mission  to 
France,  bursts  into  the  room,  accompanied  by  a  few 
followers,  and  stands  appalled  by  what  he  sees.  Lucy, 
always  a  well-bred  young  lady,  faints  on  the  spot, 
Ashton  and  Bucklaw  finger  their  swords,  and  it  is  at 
this  critical  moment  that  Donizetti  thrills  us  with  his 
heavenly  sextette.  It  has  been  said  with  entire  justice 
that  this  music  is  too  beautiful  to  be  appropriate  to  the 
dramatic  situation.  That  is  true.  It  should  also  be 
said  that  this  glorious  composition,  defying  criticism, 
analysis,  or  the  passing  of  time,  begins  where  words 
end. 

Sextette  "  Chi  mifrena  il  mio  furore?  "  ("  Why  do  I  my  arm  restrain?  ") 
Sung  by  Kerns,  Potter,  Miller,  Charles  Harrison,  Croxton,  and  Wieder- 

hold 

Columbia  Record  A  5709 
33 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Soon  after  the  sextette  comes  the  familiar  "Mad 
Scene,"  when  Lucy,  staring  before  her,  a  knife  in  her 
hand,  confronts  the  astonished  guests.  She  rehearses 
incoherently  the  events  of  the  wedding.  She  has  gone 
insane  and  killed  her  bridegroom.  Her  ravings  result 
in  all  sorts  of  melodious  pyrotechnics,  which  exhibit  to 
the  full  the  voice  and  the  skill  of  the  singer.  In  the 
cadenzas,  a  flute  is  used  as  though  in  competition  with 
the  vocalist,  the  one  attempting,  apparently,  to  outdo 
the  other  in  grace  and  agility  of  execution.  The  great- 
est coloratura  singers  in  the  world  have  awakened 
frenzies  of  enthusiasm  with  this  scene. 

"  Mad  Scene  from  '  Lucia  di  Lammermoor  '  " 

"  Ardon  gl'incensi  "  ("  These  flaming  tapers  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record      48627 

To-day  "Lucia  di  Lammermoor"  is  known  prin- 
cipally for  this  "Mad  Scene,"  a  "vehicle"  for  a  prima 
donna,  and  the  great  sextette.  Yet  Donizetti  wrote  the 
opera  with  thought  of  the  heroic  tenor,  Duprez,  a  singer 
of  extraordinary  presence  and  dramatic  power;  and  the 
most  impressive  music  was  considered  by  the  public  of 
the  thirties  and  forties  to  occur  in  the  last  act,  as  Edgar, 
taking  leave  of  the  world  and  all  he  holds  dear,  throws 
himself  on  his  sword. 

From  1822  to  1836  Donizetti  produced  three  or  four 
operas  a  year,  with  more  rapidity  than  substance  and 
workmanship.  Then  a  new  composer  rose  up,  a  younger 
man  by  a  few  years  than  Donizetti,  one  Vincenzo  Bellini. 
Donizetti  bestirred  himself.  "Lucia  di  Lammermoor" 
was  in  a  sense  his  answer  to  Bellini's  opera,  "I  Puritani," 
which  had  had  a  notably  successful  premiere  only  nine 
months  before.  The  triumph  of  "Lucia"  gained  its 
composer  the  position  of  teacher  of  counterpoint  at  the 
Naples  Conservatory.  But  when  the  Naples  censor 

34 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

forbade  the  production  of  Donizetti's  "Polyeucte"  he 
left  Italy  for  France. 

In  1840  came  an  order  from  Paris,  which  henceforth 
welcomed  Donizetti  as  its  own,  for  a  new  opera.  Doni- 
zetti composed  "La  Favorita,"  the  text  adapted  by 
Rover  and  AVaez  from  a  drama,  "Le  Comte  de  Com- 
minges,"  of  Baculard-Darnaud.  The  finale  of  the  fourth 
act,  accounted  by  many  the  most  dramatic  passage  that 
Donizetti  composed,  was  finished  by  him  in  three  hours' 
time.  He  was  having  dinner  with  his  friends.  The 
company  rose  to  go  to  a  ball.  Donizetti  begged  to  be 
excused,  saying  that  he  wished  to  enjoy  his  coffee,  of 
which  he  was  inordinately  fond.  As  soon  as  his  friends 
had  gone  he  sent  out  for  music-paper.  Inspiration  was 
upon  him,  and  when  the  others  returned  at  a  late  hour 
the  finale  of  "Favorita"  was  completed. 

The  plot  is  not  a  tranquil  one.  Ferdinand,  a  young 
monk,  sees  an  unknown  and  beautiful  woman.  He  can- 
not dismiss  her  from  his  thoughts.  He  tells  his  superior, 
Balthazar,  of  his  vision,  and  announces  that  he  is  going 
to  leave  the  monastery  forever.  "Una  vergine"  is  one 
of  the  melodies  most  characteristic  of  Donizetti's  talent. 

"  Una  vergine  un  angiol  di  dio  "  ("  A  vision  of  beauty  appearing  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  48749 

Ferdinand  finds  his  divinity.  She  is  Leonora,  the 
favorite  of  King  Alfonso  of  Castile.  Ferdinand,  know- 
ing nothing  of  her  past,  lays  his  heart  at  her  feet. 
Leonora  is  moved,  first  to  compassion,  then  to  love. 
In  the  mean  time  the  Church  has  commanded  Alfonso 
to  give  up  his  favorite.  It  is  Balthazar,  Ferdinand's 
old  superior,  who  brings  the  message,  and  it  is  Balthazar 
who  tells  Ferdinand  that  the  woman  he  loves  is  the 
creature  of  the  king.  In  the  last  act  the  monks  wel- 
come Ferdinand  back  to  the  cloister.  Heartbroken  at 

35 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

his  knowledge  of  Leonora's  past,  alone  within  the  gray 
walls,  the  embittered  man  looks  back  to  the  world  which 
he  has  left  forever  and  sings  the  touching  air,  "Spirito 
gentil." 

"  Spirito  gentil  "  ("  Spirit  so  fair  ") 

Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro  Columbia  Record  48748 

Sung  by  Alessandro  Bonci  Columbia  Record  A  5468 

Coming  from  the  chapel,  Ferdinand  is  confronted  with 
the  sight  of  a  novice  struggling  to  her  knees.  Horrified, 
he  recognizes  Leonora,  and,  his  love  returning,  is  willing 
again  to  break  his  vows.  But  Leonora  reminds  him  of 
his  oath  to  God,  and  dies  in  his  arms.  This  opera,  like 
"Lucia,"  was  composed  for  Duprez.  It  was  first  pro- 
duced on  the  2d  of  December,  1840,  at  the  Academic. 

In  the  course  of  his  lifetime  Donizetti  composed  nearly 
seventy  works  for  the  stage.  "Don  Pasquale"  was  writ- 
ten in  eight  days  and  produced  at  the  Theatre  des 
Italiens,  Paris,  January  4,  1843.  From  the  quality  of  its 
workmanship,  one  would  not  believe  that  it  had  been  cre- 
ated in  such  haste.  While  "Lucia  di  Lammermoor" 
remains  Donizetti's  masterpiece  in  the  eyes  of  the  pub- 
lic, there  are  those  who  think  it  surpassed  by  "Don 
Pasquale"  and  by  other  of  his  works  in  the  humorous 
vein,  such  as  "The  Daughter  of  the  Regiment"  and 
"L'Elisir  d'Amore."  In  these  light  operas,  if  he  is 
not  greater — and  it  would  have  been  hard  for  him  to 
be  greater  than  he  was  in  the  "Lucia"  sextette — he  is  at 
least  more  consistently  great,  and  much  more  human. 
The  characters  in  "Don  Pasquale"  are  not  figures  of 
strutting  operatic  tragedy,  but  human  beings,  alive  to 
the  core,  who  act  naturally  and  show  genuine  emotion 
on  the  stage.  How  shrewdly  they  are  drawn,  in  the 
music  as  well  as  by  the  action  of  the  drama !  How  vivid 
and  sparkling  is  the  music!  How  captivating  its  play 
of  melody  and  humor! 

36 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Donizetti  wrote  the  music,  Cammarano  the  text  of 
"Don  Pasquale,"  which  he  adapted  from  an  older  opera. 

Donizetti's  operas,  in  his  later  years,  were  performed 
all  over  Europe  and  even  in  Constantinople  and  Cal- 
cutta. But  he  was  overtaxing  mind  and  body,  and  was 
one  day  found  on  his  bedroom  floor  unconscious  from 
over- work  and  over-play.  From  that  time  dated  an 
increasing  paralysis  of  muscle  and  brain.  Nothing  is 
more  pathetic  than  the  delusion  harbored  by  him  that 
he  was  dead.  "But  don't  you  know,"  he  would  ex- 
claim to  callers — "don't  you  know  that  poor  Donizetti 
is  dead?"  He  died  in  his  brother's  arms  on  the  8th  of 
April,  1848. 

Donizetti's  facility,  his  nervous  temperament,  and  the 
constant  demand  for  his  music  as  fast  as  he  could  pro- 
duce it,  militated  against  the  slow  and  reflective  proc- 
esses by  which  enduring  masterpieces  are  brought  to 
birth.  Notwithstanding  this  he  wras  a  musician  of  great 
gifts  and  a  man  of  more  than  ordinary  mentality.  His 
grand  operas  have  the  conventional  defects  of  their 
school  and  period,  but  they  have  also  the  beautiful 
melodic  line,  the  lyrical  emotion,  and,  in  their  highest 
estate,  the  divine  grace  and  transparency  of  true  Italian 
art.  In  operatic  comedy  he  showed  an  understanding 
of  human  nature,  a  gift  of  observation,  a  love  of  life 
which  carried  him  far.  Certain  of  his  melodies  will  live 
as  long  as  the  school  of  which  he  was  so  brilliant  a 
representative  endures. 


VINCEXZO  BELLINI 

/CATANIA  fronts  on  the  shimmering  waters  of  the 
\^S  Mediterranean,  and  ^Etna,  the  volcano,  towers  in 
the  distance.  Ships  from  all  ports  of  the  world 
crowd  the  harbors.  The  place  seems  to  have  grown 
rather  than  to  have  been  built  from  the  soil.  The  prin- 
cipal street  is  laid  on  the  lava  which  in  centuries  past 
flowed  from  the  volcano.  A  portion  of  the  city,  founded 
about  eight  centuries  before  Christ,  is  new,  but  the 
Catania  in  which  Bellini  was  born  is  the  Catania  of 
stone  and  stucco  houses  which  nestle  together,  their 
brilliant  blues,  pinks,  and  yellows  softened  and  made 
wonderful  by  time.  Narrow  streets  run  into  vine- 
covered  arcades  or  up  flights  of  worn  stone  steps.  Here, 
in  a  niche,  is  a  madonna.  There,  peasants  in  costumes 
of  a  former  day  sell  olives  and  goats'  milk.  To  feel 
the  peace  and  tranquillity  of  the  scene,  to  bathe  in  the 
sunshine  which  floods  the  land  of  Italy,  is  to  under- 
stand the  melodies  of  Bellini.  His  art  was  a  flower 
which  blossomed  quickly  from  a  hot  and  fertile  soil. 
Its  life  was  soon  spent.  It  left  behind  an  emotion,  a 
perfume,  slow  to  fade. 

Of  distinguished  appearance,  with  light,  wavy  hair, 
delicate  features,  a  high  forehead,  and  elegantly  clad, 
Bellini  was  the  picture  of  his  music.  He  was  born  on 
the  3d  of  November,  1801,  and  was  not  six  years  old 
when  he  began  to  compose.  His  father  and  grandfather 
were  musicians.  He  was  musical  by  instinct.  His 
technical  accomplishments  as  a  composer  were  never 
important,  but  he  interested  himself  in  piano-playing, 


r>ri  MM.    -      iss 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

could  sing  well,  and  during  a  happy  and  uneventful  boy- 
hood composed  music  of  an  aria,  psalms,  and  several 
masses.  On  his  face  was  already  the  reflection  of  that 
melancholy  which  colored  much  of  his  music  and  seemed 
to  forecast  his  early  end. 

Bellini's  father  had  not  the  funds  to  educate  his  son 
musically.  He,  therefore,  petitioned  the  municipality  to 
send  the  boy  to  Naples,  and  the  necessary  allowance  was 
granted  in  May,  1819.  In  that  year  Bellini  entered  on 
a  course  of  four  years'  study  at  the  Naples  Conservatory. 
He  had  good  introductions,  and  the  sorrow  of  parting 
from  his  family — he  was  almost  morbidly  attached  to 
those  whom  he  loved — was  tempered  by  social  and  musi- 
cal successes  in  the  city  of  his  sojourn.  When  his  festi- 
val cantata,  "Ismene,"  was  performed  in  San  Carlo  for 
a  birthday  in  the  royal  family,  the  king  himself  led  the 
applause.  At  a  stroke  Bellini  had  secured  the  entry 
not  only  into  the  best  houses  in  Naples,  but  the  greatest 
theaters  in  Italy. 

In  Naples  Bellini  met  Maddalena  Fumaroli,  the 
one  woman  he  ever  loved.  She  was  a  fair-haired 
Neapolitan.  One  of  her  poems  was  set  to  music  by 
Bellini.  But  when  Bellini  asked  Maddalena's  father 
for  her  hand,  he  was  peremptorily  refused.  This  was  a 
blow  from  which  he  never  recovered.  Another  man 
would  have  overcome  the  parent's  opposition,  or  time 
would  have  healed  the  wound.  But  Bellini  had  neither 
a  robust  nor  a  combative  temperament.  He  could  only 
suffer.  He  saw  Maddalena  for  the  last  time,  then  threw 
himself  into  his  work.  He  worked  furiously,  fatally,  for 
one  of  his  frail  constitution.  Opera  after  opera  came 
from  his  pen  and  he  rose  to  fame  with  a  rapidity  that 
was  the  result  of  his  feverish  energy. 

"II  Pirata"  (Milan,  1827)  established  Bellini's  reputa- 
tion. In  Milan  he  had  the  advantage  of  constant  inter- 
course with  a  brilliant  and  artistic  circle.  He  made 

39 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

here  the  acquaintance  of  the  librettist  Romani,  who  was 
to  write  the  text  of  two  of  Bellini's  most  famous  operas 
— "Norma"  and  "Sonnambula" — and  he  became  inti- 
mate with  celebrated  singers  who  had  an  important 
influence  on  his  style.  "La  Sonnambula,"  a  pretty, 
pastoral  opera,  was  inspired  by  certain  stretches  of 
water  and  woodland,  peasant  cottages,  and  a  waterfall 
in  the  vicinity  of  Lake  Como,  where  Bellini  used  often 
to  wander.  The  work  was  composed  with  special 
thought  of  the  singers  La  Pasta,  Rubini,  and  Mariani. 
For  them  he  wrote  his  airs  and  remodeled  a  number  of 
his  melodies  to  make  them  not  only  expressive,  but 
particularly  suitable  to  the  voice  and  the  talent  of  each 
of  his  leading  interpreters. 

"La  Sonnambula"  ("The  Sleep-walker")  was  first 
performed  at  the  Teatro  Carcano,  Milan,  March  6, 
1831.  The  plot  hinges  on  the  love  of  Elvino,  a  wealthy 
young  peasant,  for  Amina,  and  her  sleep-walking  ten- 
dencies. As  it  happens,  on  the  eve  of  their  wedding, 
Rodolfo,  a  young  lord,  returns  from  his  travels  to  the 
village.  Amina,  walking  in  her  sleep,  enters  Rodolfo 's 
bedroom.  All  is  explained  when  Amina,  sleeping,  steps 
from  a  window  of  the  mill,  and,  amid  the  breathless 
suspense  of  the  onlookers,  crosses  a  rotten  plank  high 
over  the  whirling  wheel.  She  descends  safely,  and 
Elvino,  realizing  the  cause  of  his  suspicions,  gathers  her 
in  his  arms. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  the  plot  of  "Sonnambula"  is 
either  substantial  or  highly  dramatic.  A  text  of  little 
meaning  is  Bellini's  excuse  for  some  delightful  florid 
melodies.  The  day  had  come  and  gone,  and  was  not 
to  return  until  the  period  of  the  later  Verdi,  when 
Italian  composers  would  give  careful  thought  to  their 
libretti  and  the  relation  of  text  and  music. 

"Norma,"  Bellini's  greatest  work,  was  produced  nine 
months  after  the  premiere  of  "Sonnambula"  on  the 

40 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

26th  of  December,  1831,  at  Milan.  The  composer 
astonished  his  warmest  admirers  by  the  breadth  and 
nobility  of  his  melodic  style.  This  opera  is  seldom  heard 
to-day,  principally  because  of  the  fact  that  there  are 
all  too  few  singers  capable  at  once  of  the  technical 
brilliancy  and  the  dramatic  feeling  of  the  music.  Bellini 
rewrote  the  great  air  "Casta  Diva"  nine  times  before 
he  could  satisfy  La  Pasta,  who  was  to  sing  it.  She  pro- 
tested that  no  human  voice  was  capable  of  executing 
such  difficulties  in  an  acceptable  and  artistic  manner. 
Bellini  finally  suggested  that  Pasta  take  the  aria  home 
and  practise  it  each  day  for  a  week.  If  at  the  end  of 
that  time  she  still  wished  him  to  change  the  music,  he 
would  do  so.  La  Pasta  returned,  radiant.  She  was  de- 
lighted with  the  aria  and  would  on  no  account  consent 
to  the  change  of  a  single  note.  She  made  one  of  her 
greatest  successes  in  a  scene  which,  even  to-day,  is  a 
supreme  test  of  a  singer's  art. 

Norma,  high  priestess  of  the  Druids  of  Gaul,  counsels 
them  that  it  is  not  yet  time  to  rise  against  the  invading 
Romans.  When  this  time  arrives,  she  will  give  the 
signal  from  the  altar.  It  is  night  in  the  sacred  groves, 
and  the  moon  shines  clear  in  the  heavens.  The  proph- 
etess, whose  heart  is  torn  between  secret  love  of  the 
Roman  proconsul,  Pollione,  and  consuming  devotion  to 
her  native  land,  asks  the  pale  goddess  to  send  peace 
as  pure  and  serene  as  her  own  silver  rays.  Few  airs 
from  any  opera  made  a  more  profound  impression  on 
audiences  of  Bellini's  period  than  this  one,  an  air  which, 
sung  in  the  grand  manner,  still  moves  the  hearer  by  the 
beauty  of  the  melody  and  the  pathos  and  depth  of  its 
feeling. 

"  Casta  diva  "  ("  Queen  of  heaven  ") 

Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle 

Columbia  Record  49720 

41 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

could  sing  well,  and  during  a  happy  and  uneventful  boy- 
hood composed  music  of  an  aria,  psalms,  and  several 
masses.  On  his  face  was  already  the  reflection  of  that 
melancholy  which  colored  much  of  his  music  and  seemed 
to  forecast  his  early  end. 

Bellini's  father  had  not  the  funds  to  educate  his  son 
musically.  He,  therefore,  petitioned  the  municipality  to 
send  the  boy  to  Naples,  and  the  necessary  allowance  was 
granted  in  May,  1819.  In  that  year  Bellini  entered  on 
a  course  of  four  years'  study  at  the  Naples  Conservatory. 
He  had  good  introductions,  and  the  sorrow  of  parting 
from  his  family — he  was  almost  morbidly  attached  to 
those  whom  he  loved — was  tempered  by  social  and  musi- 
cal successes  in  the  city  of  his  sojourn.  When  his  festi- 
val cantata,  "Ismene,"  was  performed  in  San  Carlo  for 
a  birthday  in  the  royal  family,  the  king  himself  led  the 
applause.  At  a  stroke  Bellini  had  secured  the  entry 
not  only  into  the  best  houses  in  Naples,  but  the  greatest 
theaters  in  Italy. 

In  Naples  Bellini  met  Maddalena  Fumaroli,  the 
one  woman  he  ever  loved.  She  was  a  fair-haired 
Neapolitan.  One  of  her  poems  was  set  to  music  by 
Bellini.  But  when  Bellini  asked  Maddalena's  father 
for  her  hand,  he  was  peremptorily  refused.  This  was  a 
blow  from  which  he  never  recovered.  Another  man 
would  have  overcome  the  parent's  opposition,  or  time 
would  have  healed  the  wound.  But  Bellini  had  neither 
a  robust  nor  a  combative  temperament.  He  could  only 
suffer.  He  saw  Maddalena  for  the  last  time,  then  threw 
himself  into  his  work.  He  worked  furiously,  fatally,  for 
one  of  his  frail  constitution.  Opera  after  opera  came 
from  his  pen  and  he  rose  to  fame  with  a  rapidity  that 
was  the  result  of  his  feverish  energy. 

"II  Pirata"  (Milan,  1827)  established  Bellini's  reputa- 
tion. In  Milan  he  had  the  advantage  of  constant  inter- 
course with  a  brilliant  and  artistic  circle.  He  made 

39 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

here  the  acquaintance  of  the  librettist  Romani,  who  was 
to  write  the  text  of  two  of  Bellini's  most  famous  operas 
— "Norma"  and  "  Sonnambula  " — and  he  became  inti- 
mate with  celebrated  singers  who  had  an  important 
influence  on  his  style.  "La  Sonnambula,"  a  pretty, 
pastoral  opera,  was  inspired  by  certain  stretches  of 
water  and  woodland,  peasant  cottages,  and  a  waterfall 
in  the  vicinity  of  Lake  Como,  where  Bellini  used  often 
to  wander.  The  work  was  composed  with  special 
thought  of  the  singers  La  Pasta,  Rubini,  and  Mariani. 
For  them  he  wrote  his  airs  and  remodeled  a  number  of 
his  melodies  to  make  them  not  only  expressive,  but 
particularly  suitable  to  the  voice  and  the  talent  of  each 
of  his  leading  interpreters. 

"La  Sonnambula"  ("The  Sleep-walker")  v/as  first 
performed  at  the  Teatro  Carcano,  Milan,  March  6, 
1831.  The  plot  hinges  on  the  love  of  Elvino,  a  wealthy 
young  peasant,  for  Amina,  and  her  sleep-walking  ten- 
dencies. As  it  happens,  on  the  eve  of  their  wedding, 
Rodolfo,  a  young  lord,  returns  from  his  travels  to  the 
village.  Amina,  walking  in  her  sleep,  enters  Rodolfo's 
bedroom.  All  is  explained  when  Amina,  sleeping,  steps 
from  a  window  of  the  mill,  and,  amid  the  breathless 
suspense  of  the  onlookers,  crosses  a  rotten  plank  high 
over  the  whirling  wheel.  She  descends  safely,  and 
Elvino,  realizing  the  cause  of  his  suspicions,  gathers  her 
in  his  arms. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  the  plot  of  "Sonnambula"  is 
either  substantial  or  highly  dramatic.  A  text  of  little 
meaning  is  Bellini's  excuse  for  some  delightful  florid 
melodies.  The  day  had  come  and  gone,  and  was  not 
to  return  until  the  period  of  the  later  Verdi,  when 
Italian  composers  would  give  careful  thought  to  their 
libretti  and  the  relation  of  text  and  music. 

"Norma,"  Bellini's  greatest  work,  was  produced  nine 
months  after  the  premiere  of  "Sonnambula"  on  the 

40 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

26th  of  December,  1831,  at  Milan.  The  composer 
astonished  his  warmest  admirers  by  the  breadth  and 
nobility  of  his  melodic  style.  This  opera  is  seldom  heard 
to-day,  principally  because  of  the  fact  that  there  are 
all  too  few  singers  capable  at  once  of  the  technical 
brilliancy  and  the  dramatic  feeling  of  the  music.  Bellini 
rewrote  the  great  air  "Casta  Diva"  nine  times  before 
he  could  satisfy  La  Pasta,  who  was  to  sing  it.  She  pro- 
tested that  no  human  voice  was  capable  of  executing 
such  difficulties  in  an  acceptable  and  artistic  manner. 
Bellini  finally  suggested  that  Pasta  take  the  aria  home 
and  practise  it  each  day  for  a  week.  If  at  the  end  of 
that  time  she  still  wished  him  to  change  the  music,  he 
would  do  so.  La  Pasta  returned,  radiant.  She  was  de- 
lighted with  the  aria  and  would  on  no  account  consent 
to  the  change  of  a  single  note.  She  made  one  of  her 
greatest  successes  in  a  scene  which,  even  to-day,  is  a 
supreme  test  of  a  singer's  art. 

Norma,  high  priestess  of  the  Druids  of  Gaul,  counsels 
them  that  it  is  not  yet  time  to  rise  against  the  invading 
Romans.  When  this  time  arrives,  she  will  give  the 
signal  from  the  altar.  It  is  night  in  the  sacred  groves, 
and  the  moon  shines  clear  in  the  heavens.  The  proph- 
etess, whose  heart  is  torn  between  secret  love  of  the 
Roman  proconsul,  Pollione,  and  consuming  devotion  to 
her  native  land,  asks  the  pale  goddess  to  send  peace 
as  pure  and  serene  as  her  own  silver  rays.  Few  airs 
from  any  opera  made  a  more  profound  impression  on 
audiences  of  Bellini's  period  than  this  one,  an  air  which, 
sung  in  the  grand  manner,  still  moves  the  hearer  by  the 
beauty  of  the  melody  and  the  pathos  and  depth  of  its 
feeling. 

"  Casta  diva  "  ("  Queen  of  heaven  ") 

Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle 

Columbia  Record  49720 

41 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

On  the  reverse  side  of  this  record  is  the  second  great 
air  of  Norma,  which  follows  almost  immediately  in  the 
opera.  Alone  with  her  thoughts,  the  high  priestess, 
overcome  by  a  foreboding  which  she  cannot  explain,  ex- 
presses her  apprehension  for  the  future,  and  her  doubts 
of  Pollione's  love. 

"Ah!    Bello  a  me  ritorna  "  ("Restore  to  me  your  love's  protection") 

Sung  by  Celestina  Boninsegna 

Columbia  Record  A  5197 

Her  fears  are  too  well  grounded.  Pollione  is  faithless. 
The  young  priestess  Adalgisa  throws  herself  at  Norma's 
feet,  begging  to  be  released  from  her  vows.  Norma  asks 
the  name  of  her  lover.  "Behold  him,"  cries  Adalgisa, 
as  Pollione  appears. 

At  last,  enraged  past  endurance  at  the  treachery  of 
the  Roman,  Norma  strikes  the  sacred  shield,  and  sum- 
mons the  Druids  to  war.  "But  first,"  is  the  cry,  "a 
sacrifice!"  Pollione  is  led  up  by  the  guards.  He  has 
been  seized  in  the  very  temple  of  Esus,  where  he  had 
pursued  Adalgisa.  Norma,  raising  the  dagger,  ad- 
vances to  strike,  but  love  is  stronger  than  vengeance. 
She  falters,  tears  the  sacred  wreath  from  her  brow,  de- 
clares herself  the  guilty  one,  and  offers  her  life  as  the 
propitiatory  sacrifice.  Overcome  by  her  nobility,  and 
filled  with  remorse,  Pollione  follows  Norma  to  the 
funeral  pyre,  where,  amid  the  ascending  flames,  the  two 
expiate  their  sin. 

Returning  to  Catania  soon  after  the  premiere  of  his 
masterpiece,  Bellini  was  received  with  indescribable  en- 
thusiasm. A  procession  headed  by  dignitaries  of  the 
city  met  him  before  the  gates  and  escorted  him  in 
triumph  through  the  streets.  Shopkeepers  refused  pay- 
ment for  then*  wares.  There  was  hot  rivalry  between 
the  Milanese  and  the  Catanians  for  the  favor  of  their 
idolized  composer.  Yet  it  is  recorded  that  Bellini  was 

42 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

profoundly  melancholy  when  it  came  time  to  leave  his 
birthplace  and  once  more  face  the  world,  and  his  de- 
pression was  increased  by  a  superstitious  belief  in  the 
portents  of  nature.  ^Etna  was  in  eruption.  "Thou, 
too,  O  zEtna,"  he  cried,  "art  bidding  me  a  last  farewell." 
He  was  in  Paris  when  he  composed  his  swan-song,  "I 
Puritani." 

"I  Puritani"  ("The  Puritans"),  the  book  by  Count 
Pepoli,  was  first  performed  at  the  Theatre  des  Italiens, 
Paris,  January  25,  1835.  The  scene  is  England  and  the 
period  the  wars  of  the  Puritans  led  by  Cromwell  against 
Charles  II  and  his  Parliament. 

Elvira,  daughter  of  Lord  Walter  Walton,  a  leader 
of  the  Puritans,  loves  Lord  Arthur  Talbot,  a  Cavalier, 
and,  therefore,  a  supporter  of  her  father's  foes.  Ad- 
mitted to  the  Puritan  fortress  through  the  leniency  of 
Elvira's  father,  Arthur,  in  one  of  the  sweetest  melodies 
Bellini  ever  composed,  claims  her  hand. 

"  A  te,  O  Cara  "  ("  Often,  dearest  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  48783 

Arthur  recognizes  in  a  hostage  the  wife  of  King 
Charles,  and,  his  loyalty  to  his  sovereign  triumphing 
for  the  moment  over  his  love,  resolves  to  save  the  queen. 
When  Arthur's  deed  is  discovered  he  is  sentenced  to 
death  if  captured.  Elvira,  like  many  operatic  heroines 
of  Bellini's  day,  goes  mad  at  the  suspicion  of  Arthur's 
infidelity.  Compare  this  song  for  the  operatic  heroine 
who  temporarily  loses  her  wits  to  sing  an  aria,  with 
Donizetti's  music  for  the  mad  Lucia  of  Lammermoor, 
and  note  the  difference  between  Lucia's  virtuoso  piece 
and  the  pathetic  lament  of  Elvira.  Bellini's  music  is 
simpler  and  more  emotional  in  its  appeal  than  is  Doni- 
zetti's. This  simplicity,  this  touching  pathos  and 

43 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

genuineness  of  feeling,  is  a  distinguishing  characteristic 
of  the  art  of  the  Catanian. 

"  Qui  la  voce  "  ("  Hear  his  voice  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record  49370 

Sir  George,  Elvira's  uncle,  and  Sir  Richard,  her  unsuc- 
cessful suitor,  listen,  deeply  moved,  to  the  maiden's 
complaint.  Elvira  fancies  that  Arthur  is  near.  He 
must  make  haste  and  no  longer  delay  their  happiness. 
The  guests  are  assembled.  Does  he  hear  the  music  for 
the  dance?  The  wedding  feast  is  prepared. 

"  Vien  diletto  "  ("  Come,  my  love  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record  49371 

The  two  men  then  agree  that  if  Arthur  returns  unarmed 
and  unoffending  in  any  active  manner  against  the  cause, 
his  life  shall  be  saved. 

It  is  at  this  juncture  that  the  two  Puritans  sing  the 
warlike  bass  duet,  "Suoni  la  Tromba,"  a  battle-song 
so  robust  and  sonorous  in  its  character  that  Rossini 
laughingly  wrote  a  friend  in  Milan  that  he  must  have 
heard  the  sound  of  the  Paris  performance! 

"  Suoni  la  tromba  "  ("  Sound  the  trumpet  ") 

Sung  by  Ramon  Blanchart  and  Jose  Mardones 

Columbia  Record  A  5184 

Arthur  is  arrested,  but  news  conies  of  the  defeat  of 
Charles  and  Arthur's  life  is  saved.  Elvira's  reason  is 
automatically  restored  to  her,  and  all  ends  happily. 

If  Bellini  had  had  Roman!  instead  of  Pepoli  as  his 
librettist  at  the  time  he  composed  "I  Puritani"  he 
would  probably  have  produced  a  work  surpassing  every 
previous  effort.  One  is  led  to  this  belief  because  of  the 
fact  that  while  the  libretto  of  "Puritani"  is  one  of  the 

44 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

weakest  and  silliest  which  the  composer  used,  the 
music  lifts  the  work  far  above  the  commonplace  level 
of  the  text. 

Soon  after  the  'premiere  of  "Puritani"  Alexandre 
Dumas,  traveling  in  Italy,  saw  before  him  an  old  man 
driving  a  light  carriage,  and  was  informed  that  this  was 
the  father  of  Bellini.  The  author  hastened  to  make  him- 
self known.  The  old  man  was  overjoyed.  "Do  you 
really  know  my  son,"  he  cried,  "and  is  he  really  so  cele- 
brated a  man?  To  think  that  when  he  was  a  boy  I 
scolded  him  for  idleness  and  neglect  of  his  tasks,  and 
because  he  sat  for  hours  teaching  his  sister  to  sing  in- 
stead of  working  himself!  Every  time  he  has  success 
he  sends  me  a  memento.  This  watch  came  from 
'Xorma,'  my  horse  and  caleche  from  'Puritani.'  He 
is  a  devoted  and  affectionate  boy!"  Dumas  himself 
remarks,  "I  made  myself  known  to  the  old  man  and 
told  him  my  name,  but  it  brought  no  recollections  to 
his  mind — even  in  his  son  he  saw  not  the  artist,  but  his 
affectionate  child." 

In  September,  1834,  Bellini  was  taken  ill  and  did  not 
again  leave  his  bed.  He  was  delirious,  and  fancied  in 
his  last  hours  that  he  was  surrounded  by  the  great 
singers  who  had  often  collaborated  with  him.  He  was 
buried  in  the  cemetery  of  Pere-la-Chaise,  by  the  side 
of  Chopin  and  Cherubini,  an  immense  concourse  follow- 
ing his  body  in  the  driving  rain  to  its  last  resting-place. 
In  1876  an  Italian  warship,  thundering  its  salute,  bore 
the  remains  back  to  Catania. 


GIUSEPPE  VERDI 

WAR  had  descended  on  the  little  village  of  Le 
Roncole.  Some  of  the  villagers  sought  refuge  in 
the  church,  but  the  barricaded  doors  soon  gave 
way  and  those  within  were  at  the  mercy  of  a  drunken  and 
infuriated  soldiery.  One  woman,  hugging  a  year-old 
child  to  her  breast,  remembered  a  hidden  stairway  which 
led  to  the  belfry.  There  she  crouched,  speechless  with 
terror,  until  evening  fell  and  only  a  few  huddled  bodies 
told  of  the  outrage  which  had  been  committed.  Then 
she  crept  down,  her  child  asleep  in  her  arms.  That 
child  was  Italy's  greatest  composer,  Giuseppe  Verdi. 

This  incident,  according  to  Arthur  Pougin,  one  of  the 
most  authoritative  biographers  of  the  composer,  oc- 
curred in  1814.  On  the  10th  of  October,  1813,  Verdi 
was  born,  the  son  of  an  innkeeper,  in  the  little  village  of 
Le  Roncole.  A  ragged  beggar,  Bagasset  by  name,  used 
to  tell  Verdi's  father  that  his  bambino  would  make  a 
musician.  /This  man  Verdi  never  forgot.  When,  in 
after  years,  the  composer  bought  himself  an  estate  at 
Sant'  Agata,  near  his  birthplace,  he  often  met  old  Bagas- 
set, still  playing,  snuffling,  and  begging  for  pennies. 
It  was  Verdi's  habit  to  give  the  old  fellow  money  and 
good  things  to  eat,  and  Bagasset  would  weep  and 
laugh,  and  stammer:  "Ah,  maestro!  I  knew  you  when 
you  were  very  little;  but  now — 

Verdi's  father  saved  enough  to  buy  the  boy  a  spinet, 
a  reckless  extravagance  for  one  in  the  humble  position 
and  circumstances  of  the  innkeeper.  The  old  spinet 

46 


VERDI.    1813-1901 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

is  preserved  to-day,  and  within  it  one  may  read  the 
following  inscription : 

By  me,  Stefano  Cavaletti,  were  made  anew  and  releathered  the 
jacks  of  this  instrument,  to  which  I  have  adapted  a  pedal.  I  made 
these  jacks  gratuitously  in  consideration  of  the  good  disposition 
which  the.  young  Giuseppe  Verdi  shows  in  learning  to  play  on  the 
said  instrument,  which  quite  suffices  to  satisfy  me — Anno  Domini 
1821. 

Verdi  was  soon  playing  the  organ  at  the  church  of 
Le  Roncole,  on  Sundays  and  holy  days,  for  weddings, 
baptisms,  funerals,  and  receiving  for  it  all  a  little  less 
than  twenty  dollars  a  year  and  each  harvest-time  a 
popular  contribution  of  corn  and  other  grain.  Accord- 
ing to  the  standards  of  his  neighborhood,  he  was  a  well- 
to-do  and  coming  young  man.  He  went  to  school 
at  Busseto  while  pursuing  his  profession  at  Le  Roncole. 
Tramping  the  three  miles  from  Le  Roncole  to  Busseto, 
and  back  again,  sometimes  under  the  sun,  sometimes 
under  the  shining  stars,  he  developed  a  health  of  body 
and  mind  that  never  left  him. 

A  wine  merchant  of  Busseto,  Barezzi  by  name,  be- 
came interested  in  Verdi.  He  took  him  into  his  home, 
secured  him  a  teacher  of  composition,  and  later  helped 
him  to  go  to  Milan  for  further  study.  Applying  for 
entrance  to  the  famous  Conservatory  of  that  city, 
Verdi  was  refused  as  not  having  sufficient  talent! 

But  he  had  his  revenge.  He  became  a  private  pupil 
of  Lavigna,  one  of  the  Conservatory  teachers.  One 
evening  at  Lavigna's  house,  Easily,  the  man  who  had  re- 
fused Verdi's  application,  complained  of  the  backward- 
ness of  twenty-eight  of  the  Conservatory  pupils  who  had 
proved  unable  to  construct  a  fugue  on  a  "subject"  (a 
short  musical  phrase  on  which  the  whole  fugue,  one  of 
the  most  complicated  of  musical  structures,  is  built) 
which  he  had  given  out. 

47 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"Can  you  write  down  your  subject?"  asked  Lavigna. 

Easily  complied. 

"Sit  down  at  that  table,"  said  Lavigna  to  Verdi, 
"and  work  this  out." 

When  Verdi  had  finished,  Easily  was  amazed. 

"You  have  written  not  only  a  fugue,"  said  he,  "but 
a  '  double  cannon '  on  my  subject.  Why?" 

Verdi  had  voluntarily  doubled  the  difficulty  of  the 
task  set  him.  And  the  young  genius,  looking  the  old 
pedant  squarely  in  the  eye,  answered,  with  the  unmerci- 
ful candor  of  youth,  "Because  I  found  your  subject 
rather  poor  and  I  wished  to  embellish  it." 

Verdi's  talent  soon  made  a  stir  in  Milan.  Returning 
to  Busseto,  he  married  the  daughter  of  his  benefactor, 
Barezzi.  The  union  was  happy,  and  all  promised  well, 
when  Verdi's  first  opera,  "Oberto,  Conte  di  San  Boni- 
facio," was  produced  at  La  Scala  on  the  17th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1839,  with  a  success  that  went  far  toward  securing 
him  the  entree  to  the  opera-houses  of  Italy.  But  tragedy 
was  stalking  the  composer.  Verdi  had  scarcely  begun 
the  composition  of  a  comic  opera  when  a  disease  which 
the  physician  could  not  name  carried  off  first  his  wife 
and  then  his  two  children.  The  blow  affected  profoundly 
the  man  and  his  music.  All  the  succeeding  operas  of 
Verdi,  until  he  reached  his  eightieth  year,  were  of  a  serious 
and  tragical  character.  For  the  moment  the  heart  of 
the  master  failed  him.  But  he  had  his  life  to  live,  his 
work  to  do,  and  his  genius  drove  him  on.  Love  of 
country,  if  not  of  life,  was  strong  in  him.  Italy  was 
groaning  under  Austrian  misrule.  It  was  for  Verdi 
with  his  music,  as  for  Garibaldi  with  his  armies,  to  set 
that  spirit  free. 

The  performance  of  Verdi's  next  opera,  "I  Lom- 
bardi,"  on  the  llth  of  February,  1843,  was  the  signal  for 
his  first  brush  with  the  Austrian  censor.  The  libretto 
did  not  treat  directly  of  Italy's  wrongs,  but  it  had 

48 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

verses  susceptible  of  patriotic  interpretation,  and  even 
the  presence  of  the  police  could  not  silence  the  tumultu- 
ous demonstration  of  the  audience  when  the  chorus  be- 
gan the  broad  and  stately  hymn  to  liberty  opening  with 
the  words,  "O  God  of  all  nations."  The  record  of  this 
passage  shows  us  in  what  a  simple  and  eloquent  way 
Verdi  was  able,  even  so  early  in  his  career,  to  stir  the 
emotions  of  his  countrymen. 

"Pilgrims'  Chorus"  from  "I  Lombard!" 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5736 

Verdi  chose  for  the  subject  of  his  next  opera  the 
"Hernani"  of  Victor  Hugo.  The  opera  was  first  per- 
formed at  the  Fenice  Theater,  Venice,  March  9,  1844. 
A  king,  Don  Carlos  of  Spain,  and  the  bandit,  Ernani,  a 
deposed  nobleman,  are  rivals  for  the  love  of  Elvira,  who, 
against  her  wishes,  is  betrothed  to  the  aged  Don  Gomez 
de  Silva.  Don  Gomez  and  Ernani,  for  political  reasons, 
plot  against  the  king,  with  the  understanding  that  if 
Gomez  aids  Ernani  in  the  conspiracy,  Ernani  shall  give 
up  his  life  when  demanded  by  a  trumpet  blast,  the 
signal  of  Gomez.  The  king  defeats  the  conspiracy,  for- 
gives the  plotters,  and,  repenting  his  evil  designs  on 
Elvira,  himself  unites  her  to  Ernani,  whom  she  loves. 
But  the  trumpet  of  the  revengeful  Gomez  sounds  from 
afar,  and  Ernani,  in  accordance  with  Castilian  honor, 
throws  himself  on  his  sword.  An  air  from  this  opera, 
which  has  long  held  favor  and  figured  in  many  a  ro- 
mance, is  the  song  of  Elvira,  "Ernani,  fly  with  me." 
The  heroine,  longing  for  her  lover,  implores  him  to  come 
and  save  her  from  the  union  with  Don  Gomez. 

It  is  high-flown  if  you  like — so  was  the  drama — but  it 
has  the  warmth  and  the  romantic  feeling  in  which  Verdi 
already  surpassed  his  contemporaries. 

49 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Verdi  lived  his  characters  when  he  composed — witness 
the  reproach  of  Don  Gomez,  when  he  finds  both  king 
and  bandit  confronting  him  in  the  presence  of  Elvira. 
The  crude  force,  the  broad,  virile  outline  of  the  melody 
contrast  powerfully  with  the  delicious  musical  frills  of 
the  Italian  operas  of  the  Rossini  period. 

"  Infelice,  e  tuo  credevi  "  ("  Unhappy  one,  that  I  so  trusted  ") 

Sung  by  Jose  Mardones 

Columbia  Record  A  6095 

"O  de'  verd'  anni  miei"  is  the  soliloquy  of  the  king 
as  he  reflects  on  the  folly  of  those  whose  machinations 
he  is  about  to  defeat.  This  song,  too,  has  more  than  a 
hint  of  the  dramatic  power  as  well  as  the  melodic  beauty 
of  the  Verdi  of  later  days. 

"  O  de'  verd'  anni  miei  "  ("  Though  o'er  your  fleeting  pleasures  ") 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  77088 

It  is  a  striking  fact  that  out  of  some  thirty  operas 
written  by  Verdi  only  six  remain  secure  in  the  repertory 
of  to-day.  These  are  "Rigoletto,"  "II  Trovatore," 
"La  Traviata,"  "Alda,"  "Otello,"  and  "Falstaff." 
Occasionally  certain  others  are  revived.  All  of  these 
contain  strokes  of  genius  and  bear  testimony  to  the 
labor  and  failure  which  even  the  greatest  composer 
must  go  through  to  attain  his  end. 

"Rigoletto,"  like  "Ernani,"  was  inspired  by  a  drama 
of  Victor  Hugo,  "Le  Roi  s'amuse."  This  astonishing 
opera,  produced  in  Venice,  March  11,  1851,  is  far  ahead 
of  its  period.  Even  to-day  there  are  pages  which  sur- 
prise one  by  their  modern  feeling  and  atmosphere.  Mark 
the  opening  solo  of  the  Duke  of  Mantua.  Surrounded 

by  his  brilliant  court,  this  tyrant  and  libertine  sings  of 

50 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

his  conquests.     The  song  indicates  his  gay  and  cynical 
nature. 


Questa  o  quella  "  ("  Amongst  the  fair  throng  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  46737 


i  Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 


Rigoletto,  the  hunchbacked  buffoon  of  the  court, 
insults  Monterone,  a  nobleman  whom  the  duke  has 
wronged,  and  Monterone,  terrible  in  his  wrath,  curses 
the  jester.  This  curse  is  soon  a- working. 

Rigoletto  loves  but  one  being  in  the  world,  his  daugh- 
ter, Gilda.  The  duke  secretly  woos  her,  in  the  dis- 
guise of  a  student.  Alone  in  her  garden,  Gilda  sings 
one  of  the  most  famous  of  Verdi's  melodies.  "Dearest 
name,"  she  murmurs,  thinking  of  her  lover,  "name  of 
one  whom  I  adore."  The  melody  is  in  the  old-fashioned 
style  of  Rossini — a  simple  air,  with  elaborate  musical 
ornaments.  It  is  worthy  of  note,  however,  that  it  not 
only  displays  the  skill  of  the  singer,  but  also  reveals 
the  character  of  Gilda,  an  innocent  young  girl,  singing 
coquettishly  cf  her  love.  The  end  of  the  song  is  well 
known  in  soprano  literature  because  of  the  high  E. 

"Caro  nome"    ("Dearest  Name") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos  Columbia  Record  48649 

Sung  by  Florence  Macbeth  Columbia  Record  A  6189 

The  courtiers  conspire  to  blindfold  Rigoletto  and 
make  him  an  unconscious  party  to  the  abduction  of  his 
own  daughter,  whom  they  hand  over  to  the  duke. 

One  of  the  greatest  passages  of  the  opera  comes  in 
the  third  act  when  Rigoletto  enters  the  ducal  anteroom, 
trying  vainly  to  conceal  his  dismay  under  a  laughing 
and  careless  exterior,  while  his  eyes  search  everywhere 
for  a  sign  of  the  whereabouts  of  his  lost  child.  At  last, 
unable  longer  to  dissemble,  he  implores  the  courtiers 
who  jeer  at  his  misery  to  have  mercy,  to  speak.  They 

51 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

whisper  among  themselves,  but  give  no  reply.  Desper- 
ate, at  his  wits'  end,  forgetful,  at  last,  of  caution  and  the 
flattery  due  his  masters,  the  misshapen  jester,  with  a  cry 
of  rage,  denounces  the  rabble  who  have  broken  his  heart. 

"  Cortigiani  vil  razza  dannata  "  ("  Vile  race  of  courtiers  ") 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  49192 

The  courtiers,  taken  aback  by  the  jester  suddenly 
transformed  into  a  desperate  man  at  bay,  leave  the  room 
as  Gilda  emerges  from  the  ducal  chamber  and  throws 
herself  into  her  father's  arms.  "Dishonor,  my  father! 
Dishonor!  Each  morning  when  I  went  to  church  a 
youth  wooed  me  with  his  eyes.  Yesterday  as  evening 
shadows  fell  ...  I  was  seized.  Ah,  horror!"  Rigoletto, 
appalled,  cries  out,  "How  I  prayed,  every  day,  that  you 
should  be  shielded  and  untouched  by  my  infamy.  .  .  . 
Ah,  weep  ("piangi,  piangi,  fanciulla"),  my  daughter. 
Weep  here  on  my  heart." 

"  Tutte  le  feste  al  tempio  "  ("  As  on  festal  days  I  went  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos  and  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  49611 

There  is  a  dramatic  interruption:  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  the  aged  Monterone,  whose  curse  is  bringing 
such  evil  to  the  jester,  and  who,  not  perceiving  the 
presence  of  Rigoletto  and  his  daughter,  pauses  before  a 
portrait  of  the  duke,  to  thunder  his  denunciation.  For 
an  instant  Rigoletto,  terrified  by  this  impersonation  of 
doom,  cowers  in  a  corner;  then,  as  Monterone  goes  on, 
he  springs  to  his  feet,  and  in  turn  addresses  the  portrait. 
"Yes,  vengeance"  ("Si,  vendetta"),  he  cries.  "A 
father's  vengeance  upon  you."  While  he  strides  up  and 
down  the  apartment,  invoking  all  the  powers  of  evil  on 
the  head  of  the  tyrant,  Gilda,  who  can  find  in  her  heart 
only  love  for  her  betrayer,  tries  to  console  her  parent, 

52 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

and  prays  that  Heaven  may  avert  the  consequences  of 
his  wrath — all  this  to  the  furious  music  of  Giuseppe  Verdi. 

"  Si,  vendetta  "  ("  Vengeance  I'll  have  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos  and  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  78363 

The  last  act  of  the  opera,  which  contains  the  im- 
mortal quartet,  takes  place  in  a  lonely  spot  on  the 
shores  of  the  river  Mincio.  On  one  side  is  seen  the  hut 
of  the  assassin,  Sparafucile.  With  this  man  Rigoletto 
has  struck  a  terrible  bargain.  Through  the  sister  of 
Sparafucile,  the  wanton  Maddalena,  the  duke  is  to  be 
lured  to  the  hut  and  there  murdered.  His  body  is  to 
be  delivered  to  Rigoletto,  who  will  wait  outside  at  mid- 
night. Gilda,  loving  her  betrayer,  implores  her  father 
to  reconsider  his  projected  crime.  For  answer  he  bids 
her  approach  the  hut,  where  Gilda  sees  the  duke,  fickle, 
and  amorous  as  ever,  dallying  with  the  unscrupulous 
Maddalena.  Such  is  the  situation  when  the  duke  sings 
his  aria,  beloved  of  all  tenors,  "La  donna  e  mobile." 

"  La  donna  £  mobile  "  ("  Woman  is  fickle  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  46736 

This  aria  was  not  shown  to  the  tenor  Mirate  until  a 
few  hours  before  the  premiere.  Verdi  then  gave  him 
the  music,  bidding  him  not  to  sing,  whistle,  or  think 
the  melody  outside  the  theater.  The  composer  exacted 
similar  promises  of  the  orchestra,  the  chorus,  and  every 
one  present  at  the  rehearsal.  The  reception  of  the  air 
proved  his  wisdom  in  taking  these  precautions.  The 
house  burst  into  applause  before  the  tenor  had  finished 
the  first  verse,  and  when  the  audience  had  filed  from 
the  theater  "La  donna  e  mobile"  could  be  heard  whistled 
and  sung  throughout  Venice. 

There  are  few  ensemble  passages  in  all  opera  which 

53 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

equal  in  beauty  and  dramatic  power  the  quartet.  Here 
are  four  people  each  animated  by  a  different  emotion, 
each  part  strongly  individual,  and  all  the  voices  com- 
bining to  make  a  piece  of  heavenly  harmony.  Qilda  is 
desperate  with  the  discovery  of  the  duke's  infidelity. 
The  duke  is  casting  languishing  eyes  on  Maddalena. 
Maddalena  is  laughing  in  his  arms,  and  Rigoletto, 
crouching  outside  the  door  of  the  hut,  is  plotting  ven- 
geance. 

Quartet  from  "  Rigoletto  " 

"  Bella  figlia  dell'  amore  "  ("  Fairest  daughter  of  love  ") 
Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos,  Jeanne  Gordon,  Charles  Hackett,  and 

Riccardo  Stracciari 
Columbia  Record  49782 

A  storm  rages.  The  hour  of  midnight  strikes.  A 
body  inclosed  in  a  sack  is  thrown  through  the  door. 
Rigoletto  is  exulting  in  his  vengeance  when  he  hears 
what  seems  to  him  a  ghostly  echo,  the  careless  song  of 
the  duke,  "La  donna  e  mobile."  He  opens  the  sack 
and  beholds  the  face  of  his  own  daughter.  Gilda  has 
offered  her  life  to  save  the  man  who  betrayed  her.  "The 
curse!"  he  shrieks,  and  the  curtain  falls. 

The  two  operas  which  followed  "Rigoletto,"  "II 
Trovatore,"  and  "La  Traviata,"  were  performed  in  the 
same  year,  1853.  "II  Trovatore"  is  a  wild  tale  taken 
from  a  Spanish  drama.  The  Count  di  Luna  suspected 
an  old  gipsy  of  gazing  with  the  evil  eye  on  his  two  chil- 
dren. She  was  burned  at  the  stake.  One  of  the  chil- 
dren of  the  count  disappeared  and  the  next  morning 
bones  were  found  in  the  midst  of  a  pile  of  ashes.  It 
was  believed  that  Azucena,  daughter  of  the  tortured 
gipsy,  had  burned  the  child  in  revenge.  She  committed, 
however,  a  horrible  mistake,  for  she  cast  her  own  child 
into  the  fire  and  bore  off  the  son  of  the  count.  Azucena's 
life  was,  on  the  one  hand,  a  consuming  desire  for  revenge 
on  the  family  of  Di  Luna,  and,  on  the  other,  a  pas- 

54 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

sionate  love,  which  she  could  not  quell,  for  the  child  she 
had  stolen.  This  child,  whose  real  name  is  Garcia  di 
Luna,  grows  up  knowing  only  that  he  is  called  Manrico 
of  Urgel.  The  gipsy  is  to  him  as  a  mother.  She  is  one 
of  the  greatest  portraits  in  Verdi's  gallery  of  operatic 
heroines.  Some  think  her  to  have  been  inspired  by 
Walter  Scott's  ';Meg  Merrilies." 

It  develops  in  the  first  act  of  the  opera  that  the  pres- 
ent Count  di  Luna,  whose  younger  brother  has  vanished, 
is  madly  jealous  of  an  unknown  troubadour  who  sere- 
nades the  fair  Leonora  at  midnight.  That  heroine,  on  a 
terrace,  sentimentally  narrates  to  her  confidante,  Inez, 
the  circumstances  of  her  first  meeting  with  the  mys- 
terious hero  whose  song  has  so  thrilled  her.  This  is  the 
occasion  for  her  solo,  "Tacea  la  notte,"  in  which  she 
describes  the  calm  beauty  of  the  moonlit  night  on  which 
she  first  heard  the  voice  of  her  adorer. 

"  Tacea  la  notte  placida  "  ("  How  peaceful  the  night  ") 
Sung  by  Celestina  Boninsegna 
Columbia  Record  A  5194 

Scarcely  has  Leonora  told  her  romantic  tale,  and  Inez 
very  sensibly  remarked  that  she  believes  no  good  will 
come  of  it,  when  the  voice  of  the  troubadour  falls  on 
their  ears,  a  serenade  not  so  famous  as  the  solo  of  the 
tower  scene,  but  a  beautiful  number  which  merits  more 
attention  than  it  commonly  receives. 

The  familiar  operatic  formula  is  then  worked — first 
the  solo  of  the  lover,  then  the  agitated  observations  of 
the  fair,  then  the  assembling  of  three  of  the  principal 
personages  of  the  drama,  in  order  that  a  trio  may  bring 
the  act  to  an  effective  musical  conclusion. 

A  third  individual  has  been  an  interested  listener  to 
this  melancholy  song — the  Count  di  Luna,  who,  as  the 
serenader  advances  from  one  side,  himself  approaches 
on  the  other.  The  two  men  fight.  The  count  is 

55 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

wounded,  but  his  life  is  spared  by  the  troubadour,  who 
is  discovered  to  be  Manrico.     Leonora  flees  to  a  convent. 
The  second  act  opens  with  the  gipsy  chorus,  one  of 
the  most  popular  choruses  ever  composed. 

"  Anvil  Chorus  " 

Sung  by  Columbia  Opera  Chorus 

Columbia  Record  A  5667 

Azucena,  as  one  in  a  trance,  sings  of  the  death  of  her 
mother.  A  messenger  arrives  with  the  intelligence  that 
Di  Luna  is  attacking  the  convent  in  which  Leonora  has 
taken  refuge,  that  Manrico  must  assemble  his  men  and 
confront  the  foe.  In  agitation  Azucena  clings  to  Man- 
rico and  begs  him,  for  her  sake,  to  guard  his  life. 

"  Perigliarti  ancor  languente  "  ("  While  yet  in  languishment  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Gay  and  Giovanni  Zenatello 

Columbia  Record  A  5370 

Before  the  convent  walls  Di  Luna  sings  of  the  tem- 
pest in  his  heart.  Few  composers  save  Verdi  could 
have  written  a  melody  of  such  breadth  and  beauty  of 
line.  The  man  did  not  lack  nobility,  and  his  superb 
air  is  in  the  grand  manner. 

"  II  balen  del  suo  sorriso  "  ("In  the  brightness  of  her  glances  ") 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  49220 

Manrico  rescues  Leonora,  and  they  hasten  to  the 
fortress  of  Castellor,  pursued  by  the  army  of  the  count. 
On  the  eve  of  their  wedding  comes  the  news  that  the 
count's  followers  have  captured  Azucena.  This  is  the 
moment  for  Manrico's  furious  cry  of  battle,  "Di  quella 
pira."  He  grasps  his  sword  and,  to  the  warlike  rhythm 
of  Verdi's  orchestra,  rushes  forth  to  the  fray.  This  des- 
perately heroic  song  was  the  one  melody  which  the 
Italian  statesman  Cavour  could  remember,  as  "II 

56 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Trovatore"  was  the  one  opera  to  which  he  would  will- 
ingly listen.  One  day  Cavour  was  waiting  for  news 
which  would  powerfully  affect  the  destinies  of  Italy. 
At  last  the  telegram,  arrived.  The  face  of  the  solemn 
and  bespectacled  statesman  lit  up  at  the  message.  He 
said  nothing,  but  rushed  to  the  window,  threw  it  open, 
and  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  lungs,  "Di  quella  pira!" 

"  Di  quella  pira  "  ("  Tremble,  ye  tyrants  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  47211 

The  fourth  act  of  " Trovatore'5  is  one  of  the  most 
dramatic  Verdi  ever  composed.  Manrico  and  Azucena 
have  been  captured  and  are  to  be  executed  in  the  morn- 
ing. Outside  the  castle  Aliaferia,  Ruiz,  the  faithful 
follower  of  Manrico,  shows  Leonora  the  tower  in  which 
her  lover  is  confined.  "Ah,  love,"  she  laments,  "carry 
your  message  to  the  cell  of  the  lonely  prisoner,  keep 
and  console  him,  and  do  not  let  him  know  the  despair 
in  my  heart." 

"  D'amor  sulT  ali  rosere  "  ("  Borne  on  love's  pinions  ") 
Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle 
Columbia  Record  49559 

Here  follows  the  tower  scene,  a  scene  of  deathless 
eloquence  and  beauty,  a  scene  in  which  Verdi  once  and 
for  all  demonstrates  the  dramatic  potency  of  simple 
Italian  melody.  From  above  comes  the  voice  of  the 
doomed  troubadour,  while  Leonora  cries  out  in  anguish. 
A  musical  background,  black  as  the  surrounding  night, 
is  the  requiem  chanted  by  the  nuns,  the  bell  tolling 
for  the  last  hours  of  the  condemned.  Underlying  all  is 
the  shuddering  accompaniment  of  the  orchestra. 

Miserere:   "  Ah,  che  la  morte  ognora  "  ("  Ah,  I  have  sighed  to  rest  me  ") 

Sung  by  Emmy  Destinn,  Giovanni  Zenatello,  and  Chorus 

Columbia  Record  A  5399 

57 


Manrico  is  to  be  beheaded  at  dawn.  Azucena,  as  her 
mother  before  her,  will  be  burned  at  the  stake.  Leonora 
offers  herself  as  the  price  of  her  lover's  safety.  She  asks 
but  one  condition — that  she  may  bear  the  news  to  the 
dungeon.  As  she  goes,  she  raises  to  her  lips  a  poisoned 
ring.  In  the  cell  of  the  condemned,  Azucena  lies  on  the 
straw,  between  exhaustion  and  death.  Manrico  begs 
her  to  sleep,  to  disperse  the  dreadful  visions  which  haunt 
her.  Fain  would  they  return  to  their  mountains.  Verdi 
has  here  written  music  of  the  most  simple  and  touching 
pathos. 

"  Ai  nostri  monti  "  ("  Home  to  our  mountains  ") 
»      Sung  by  Maria  Gay  and  Giovanni  Zenatello 
Columbia  Record  A  5370 

Leonora  enters,  urging  Manrico  to  escape  before  it  is 
too  late,  but  he,  suspicious,  asks  her  at  what  price  she 
gained  his  freedom.  For  answer,  Leonora  expires  be- 
fore him,  with  words  of  love  on  her  lips.  The  count 
stands  on  the  threshold.  He  orders  the  guards  to  lead 
the  troubadour  to  the  scaffold.  Useless  the  pleadings 
of  Azucena,  and  her  terrified  warnings  that  the  count 
will  rue  the  deed.  The  ax  falls.  "He  is  punished," 
cries  the  count.  The  gipsy  turns  on  him.  "Manrico 
was  thy  brother.  Oh,  mother,  thou  art  avenged!" 

"II  Trovatore"  was  first  performed  in  Rome,  January 
19,  1853.  Its  plot  is  lurid  and  complicated,  but  the 
music  seethes  with  the  hot  blood  of  Verdi's  race.  Oper- 
atic standards  of  the  period  in  Italy  were  crude.  A 
plank  and  a  tune  sufficed.  But  what  tunes  they  were! 
What  melody!  What  emotional  power!  In  spite  of  its 
tortuous  narrative,  in  spite  of  the  old-fashioned  con- 
ventions which  inhere  in  "II  Trovatore,"  the  music 
has  a  pulse,  a  thrill,  that  neither  time  nor  custom  nor 
hand-organs  can  stale. 

The  libretto  of  "La  Traviata"  by  Piave,  is  based  on 

58 


the  play  of  the  younger  Dumas,  The  Lady  oj  the  Camellias. 
Marguerite  Gautier  of  Dumas's  novel  is  Violetta  of  the 
opera.  Violetta,  a  Parisian  beauty,  is  loved  by  Alfredo. 
Sincerely  devoted  to  him,  she  abandons  her  corrupt  life 
in  Paris  and  retires  with  him  to  the  country.  Alfredo's 
father,  discovering  the  affair,  pleads  with  Violetta  to 
set  free  his  son.  Violetta,  knowing  that  it  will  be  im- 
possible to  send  Alfredo  away  by  any  ordinary  means, 
leaves  him  to  infer  that  she  has  been  faithless  to  him, 
and  returns  again  to  Paris.  Alfredo,  heartbroken  by 
this  apparent  desertion,  follows,  and,  in  the  presence 
of  many  guests,  insults  her.  Challenged  by  one  of  the 
company,  Alfredo  is  wounded  in  a  duel.  Violetta  is 
dying  of  consumption  when  Alfredo,  recovering  from 
his  injuries,  finds  out,  too  late,  the  cruel  injustice  he 
has  done. 

Verdi  in  this  opera  surprised  his  warmest  admirers  by 
the  simplicity  and  refinement  of  his  style.  With  the 
utmost  economy  of  means  he  frequently  achieves  sur- 
passingly emotional  effects.  The  orchestral  prelude  to 
the  first  act  forecasts  in  a  considerable  degree  the  emo- 
tions of  the  drama. 

Prelude  to  Act  I  of  "  La  Traviata  " 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  E  5065 

In  a  company  of  revelers  (Act  I)  Violetta  and  Alfredo 
salute  each  other  with  a  toast.  Life  is  short  and  fleet- 
ing. It  is  well  for  youth  to  gather  its  joy  while  it 
may. 

Alfredo  takes  his  leave.  Violetta,  for  his  sake,  would 
fain  renounce  the  follies  that  surround  her.  Sadly,  wist- 
fully, she  begins  her  air,  "Ah!  fors'  e  lui"  ("Ah!  were  it 
he").  But  alas,  she  reflects,  what  could  she  offer 
Alfredo  that  would  be  worthy  of  his  affection?  It  is 
best  to  live  in  the  moment,  to  be  free.  With  forced 
6  59 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

gaiety  she  sings  the  aria,  "Sempre  libera"   ("Forever 
free"). 

"  Ah!  fors'  £  lui  "  ("  Quel  est  done  ce  trouble  charmant  ") 

"  Sempre  libera  deggio  "  ("  Pour  jarnais  ta  destinee  ") 

Sung  by  Mary  Garden  (in  French) 

Columbia  Record  A  5284 

Alfredo's  ardor  overcomes  Violetta's  hesitation.  But 
her  happiness  is  short-lived.  Renouncing  all,  she  leaves 
him.  Alfredo  is  confronted  by  his  father,  who  reminds 
the  heartbroken  lover  of  all  that  waits  at  home — for- 
giveness, the  love  of  parents  and  sister,  and  the  fair 
land  of  Provence,  where  the  past  may  be  forgotten  and 
healed.  "Di  Provenza  il  mar"  is  the  melody  Verdi 
has  given  the  father  whose  heart  goes  out  to  his  son. 

"  Di  Provenza  il  mar  "  ("  From  your  home  in  fair  Provence  ") 
Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 
Columbia  Record  49215 

Not  unnaturally  Alfredo  misunderstands  the  action  of 
Violetta  and  puts  the  grossest  construction  upon  it. 
He  pursues  her  to  the  home  of  her  friend,  Flora  Belvoix. 
There  a  ball  is  in  progress,  and  Violetta  is  dissembling 
her  grief  as  best  she  may.  Alfredo,  ignoring  the  un- 
fortunate woman,  plays  at  cards,  wins  heavily,  and 
challenges  his  supposed  rival,  Baron  Duphol,  to  a  duel. 
Violetta  is  in  consternation  at  his  wild  talk  when  they 
find  themselves  alone  together.  Alfredo  accuses  her 
of  inconstancy,  summons  the  guests  about  them,  and  in 
the  presence  of  the  entire  company  throws  his  purse  at 
Violetta's  feet.  For  this  act  of  a  puppy  he  is  censured 
not  only  by  his  friends  but  by  his  father,  who  has  fol- 
lowed him  and  who  now  appears  on  the  scene.  To  a 
chorus  of  disapprobation  Alfredo  departs.  Violetta,  of 
course,  swoons. 

Between  this  scene  and  the  opening  of  the  last  act 

60 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Alfredo  has  been  wounded  in  his  duel,  and  has  learned 
too  late  of  the  selflessness  of  Violetta.  She  is  seen, 
a  wasted  consumptive,  on  her  death-bed.  She  reads  a 
letter  from  Alfredo's  father,  who  is  also  late  in  repenting 
of  his  interference,  well  meant  as  it  was,  in  his  son's  love 
affair.  "I  have  told  my  son,"  he  writes  Violetta,  "of 
your  sacrifice.  He  will  return  to  you  for  pardon. 
Live  for  the  happiness  which  you  deserve." 

The  music  Verdi  wrote  for  these  situations  is  not  only 
remarkable  for  deep  feeling,  but  extreme  simplicity. 
With  a  very  few  instruments,  a  very  few  notes,  he  pre- 
pares the  hearer,  in  his  prelude  to  this  final  act,  for  the 
emotions  to  come. 

Prelude  to  Act  III  of  "  La  Traviata  " 

Played  by  Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  E  5065 

Alfredo  arrives.  He  clasps  the  dying  Violetta  in  his 
arms,  and  the  two  sing  of  the  happiness,  far  from  the 
prying  crowd,  which  they  fondly  anticipate,  and  which 
will  never  be  theirs.  Violetta  breathes  her  last  in  her 
lover's  arms. 

The  simple  eloquence  of  the  music  of  the  final  scene 
is  only  another  proof  of  the  limitless  possibilities  of 
Verdi's  genius. 

Produced  at  Venice,  March  6,  1853,  "Traviata"  was 
coldly  received.  "Is  it  my  fault  or  that  of  the  singers?" 
wrote  Verdi  to  a  friend.  Time  has  vindicated  the  com- 
poser. Who  was  to  blame  for  the  failure  of  the  last  act? 
The  soprano  weighed  something  over  two  hundred 
pounds,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  a  gale  of  laughter 
swept  the  house  when  she  announced  she  was  dying  of 
consumption ! 

It  is  significant  that  while  up  to  the  time  of  the  com- 
position of  "Ai'da"  Verdi  had  composed  opera  after 
opera,  the  average  time  of  composition  being  four 

61 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

months  for  each  work,  "A'ida"  was  followed  by  only  two 
works,  "Otello"  and  "Falstaff,"  in  a  period  of  twenty- 
two  years!  In  other  words,  Verdi  was  reaching  the 
period  when  profound  reflection  and  knowledge  of  life 
were  to  contribute  to  the  careful,  deliberate  achievement 
of  master- works. 

"A'ida,"  produced  at  Cairo  on  the  24th  of  December, 
1871,  was  composed  at  the  invitation  of  the  Khedive 
of  Egypt,  a  munificent  patron  of  the  arts,  who  desired 
that  Verdi  should  compose  a  work  on  an  Egyptian  theme 
for  the  new  Italian  Theater  which  had  thrown  open  its 
doors  the  preceding  season.  To  Mariette  Bey,  the 
eminent  Egyptologist,  was  intrusted  the  task  of  finding 
a  subject  which  would  be  appropriate  to  the  occasion 
and  likely  to  interest  Verdi.  The  libretto  was  written 
in  French  prose,  under  the  eye  of  the  composer,  by 
Camille  du  Locle. 

Ai'da,  a  captive  in  the  Egyptian  court,  is  handmaid 
to  the  Princess  Amneris.  The  two  women  discover 
themselves  to  be  rivals  for  the  love  of  the  hero,  Radames. 
He  is  appointed  commander  of  the  Egyptians  who  are 
sent  against  the  hordes  led  by  Amonasro,  the  African 
chieftain  and  Aida's  father.  Picture  the  tumult  in  the 
heart  of  this  unhappy  woman — devoted  to  her  father, 
fearful  for  her  lover,  and  the  slave  of  her  rival,  in  whose 
power  she  lives.  Radames  returns  from  the  campaign 
victorious  and  with  Amonasro  in  chains.  The  Egyptian 
king  confers  on  Radames  the  hand  of  his  daughter,  an 
honor  which  may  not  be  refused.  On  the  eve  of  the 
wedding  A'ida,  at  the  command  of  her  father,  wrings  from 
her  unsuspecting  lover  information  as  to  the  military 
plans  of  the  Egyptians'  forthcoming  campaign  against 
the  Ethiopians.  Scarcely  has  the  secret  been  betrayed 
than  the  guards  of  Amneris  appear.  Radames  is  con- 
demned to  be  buried  alive  for  his  apparent  treachery. 
Amneris,  who  knows  the  truth,  offers  to  save  him  if  he 

62 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

will  renounce  A'ida,  but  Radames  prefers  death  to  a 
living  lie.  In  the  tomb  he  finds  Ai'da,  come  to  share  his 
fate.  While  the  priests  chant  and  the  priestesses  per- 
form the  sacred  dance  in  the  temple  above  them,  the 
lovers  sing  of  union  in  death,  and  Amneris,  conscience- 
stricken,  implores  pardon  of  her  gods. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  Verdi's  arias  is  the  well- 
known  "Celeste  Ai'da,"  in  which  Radames  (Act  I)  pays 
glowing  tribute  to  the  beauty  of  A'ida  and  prays  the  gods 
to  give  him  victory  and  the  reward  of  her  love. 

Compare  the  artistic  simplicity  and  romantic  feeling 
of  this  air  with  the  love  music  of  Verdi's  earlier  operas. 
Here  are  neither  pompous  heroics  nor  elaborate  vocal 
display,  but  straightforward,  noble,  manly  sentiment, 
and  a  melody  that  every  one  can  comprehend  and 
cherish. 

"  Celeste  Aida  "  ("  Radiant  Aida  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  48762 

Radames,  in  the  presence  of  the  king,  the  High-priest 
Ramphis,  and  other  dignitaries,  priests,  and  attendants, 
is  informed  of  his  appointment  as  leader  of  the  Egyptian 
armies.  Ai'da  is  left  alone.  "May  laurels  crown  thy 
brow,"  she  cries  out  to  the  departing  Radames;  "but, 
alas!  how  can  I  wish  Radames  victory  over  my  father, 
who  wages  war  that  I  may  be  restored  to  my  country 
and  my  crown?"  The  noble  line  of  the  melody,  the 
passionate  outbursts  of  feeling,  the  broken  exclamations 
which  alternate  with  sustained  and  beautiful  song,  make 
this  air  one  of  the  world's  great  masterpieces  of  dramatic 
music.  Very  wonderful,  too,  is  the  part  played  by  the 
orchestra.  At  the  same  time,  it  femains  subordinate 
to  the  voice,  which  always  retains  its  ascendancy,  its 
matchless  expressive  power.  "No  more,"  continues 
A'ida,  "do  I  dare  even  to  recall  the  names  of  those  for 

63 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

whom  my  prayers  would  ascend  to  heaven.     Look  down 
on  me,  merciful  gods,  and  pity  these  tears." 

The  scene  changes  to  the  interior  of  the  temple  of 
Vulcan  at  Memphis.  In  a  mysterious  light  which  shines 
down  from  above  are  seen  towering  columns,  statues  of 
ancient  Egyptian  deities,  tripods  whence  rise  the  golden 
fumes  of  incense,  and  looming  over  all  the  image  of  the 
god  Phtha.  The  aid  of  Phtha  is  besought  by  an  in- 
visible priestess,  and  there  are  low  responses  from  the 
assembled  priests.  Verdi  has  set  before  us  in  an  un- 
forgetable  manner  a  scene  of  ancient  ceremonial  and 
worship. 

"  Possente  Phtha  "  ("  Almighty  Phtha  ") 

Sung  by  E.  Toninello,  soprano,  V.  Bettoni,  bass,  and  Chorus 

Columbia  Record  E  1937 

Then  follows  the  solemn  invocation : 

"  Nume,  custode  e  vindice  "  ("  Guard  now  our  sacred  land  ") 

Sung  by  Giovanni  Zenatello,  Jose  Mardones,  and  Chorus 

Columbia  Record  A  5426 

Radames  is  at  the  battle-front.  Amneris,  appre- 
hensive for  his  safety,  longing  for  his  return,  broods 
savagely  on  the  possibility  that  he  loves  Ai'da.  And 
what  if  his  love  is  returned?  With  an  imperious  gesture 
she  summons  the  African  before  her.  "Radames  has 
perished!"  And  the  outcry  of  Ai'da  shows  Amneris  how 
truly  she  has  read  her  heart. 

Comes  Radames,  triumphant  at  the  head  of  his  hosts, 
with  captives,  among  them  Amonasro,  in  his  train. 
Probably  no  composer  has  written  a  more  stupendous 
operatic  ensemble  than  the  second  scene  of  the  second  act 
of  "Ai'da."  The  first  half  of  this  scene — the  acclamations 
of  the  people,  the  ceremonies  of  triumph,  the  discovery 
of  the  identity  of  Amonasro,  and  his  superbly  barbaric 
defiance  of  his  conquerors — would  have  absorbed  the 
creative  power  of  a  great  and  gifted  composer. 

64 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

March  from  "  Aida  " 

Played  by  Metropolitan  Opera  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6118 

But  this  is  only  the  prelude  to  the  gigantic  climax,  when 
Radames,  against  the  protests  of  the  priests,  obtains  as 
a  boon  the  life  of  Amonasro,  and  the  hand  of  Amneris 
is  conferred  on  the  hero.  It  is  musical  and  dramatic 
architecture  of  the  grandest  type. 

Nor  could  one  easily  conceive  a  finer  contrast  than 
that  of  this  scene  and  the  opening  of  the  third  act,  the 
river  Nile,  which  shimmers  in  the  moonlight,  while 
from  an  adjoining  temple  come  the  songs  of  priests 
and  priestesses  who  await  Amneris.  Ramphis  leads  her 
to  the  temple  in  which,  on  the  eve  of  her  wedding,  she 
intends  to  spend  the  night  in  prayer. 

Ai'da  steals  in  for  her  meeting  with  Radames.  "Oh, 
native  land,"  she  sings.  "Oh,  skies  of  azure,  no  more 
shall  I  behold  you."  The  passion  for  his  native  land, 
for  his  own  soil,  which  often  animated  Verdi  as  a  com- 
poser, has  come  powerfully  to  his  assistance  in  this  pas- 
sage. A  tender  pastoral  melody  precedes  Aida's  solo, 
and  in  the  orchestra  is  the  whisper  of  gentle  winds. 
Again  Verdi  achieves  an  effect  of  extraordinary  poig- 
nancy with  the  simple  melody  that  comes  from  the  heart 
of  the  sorrowing  woman. 

"  O  patria  mia  "  ("  Oh,  my  beloved  land  ") 
Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle 
Columbia  Record  49557 

Of  the  fourth  act  Amneris  is  the  heroine,  and  a  royal 
creature  she  is.  Ai'da  has  escaped.  Amonasro  was 
killed.  Radames  awaits  sentence  as  a  traitor,  though 
Amneris  knows  well  that  a  traitor  he  is  not.  Never- 
theless, he  had  planned  flight  with  Aida,  and  in  the  eyes 
of  the  proud  and  passionate  princess  this  is  a  crime  more 
fearful  than  any  of  which  the  hero  stands  accused. 

65 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Weeping,  she  addresses  Radames  as  guards  lead  him 
past  to  judgment.  "If  you  wish  to  save  yourself,  look 
on  Amneris!  Is  not  life  with  her  a  lovelier  thing  than 
the  shameful  death  of  the  condemned?"  Radames  is 
fearless.  A  proud  woman  and  a  strong  man  face  each 
other,  and  the  spirit  of  them  both  is  in  Verdi's 
music. 

One  searches  the  literature  of  music  drama  for  a  nobler, 
more  touching  passage  than  this.  It  is  Italian  in  its 
fervor  and  eloquence,  it  is  almost  Greek  in  the  nobility 
and  the  inherent  repose  of  its  art.  As  the  drama  pro- 
ceeds the  sympathy  of  the  hearer  grows  for  Amneris. 
Ai'da  is  a  captive  maiden  in  a  romantic  situation. 
Amneris  is  a  figure  of  destiny,  half  a  goddess,  and 
doomed  at  last,  in  her  repentance,  to  a  fate  far  more 
tragic  than  that  of  the  beings  in  her  power.  She  must 
now  watch  the  workings  of  the  revenge  she  has  invoked, 
helpless  to  avert  its  culmination.  The  unrelenting 
priests  pass  Amneris  on  their  way  to  the  hall  of  judgment. 
The  distracted  woman,  too  late,  implores  the  gods  to 
intervene.  Nowhere  has  Verdi  delved  deeper  in  the 
human  heart,  in  no  page  of  any  master-work  has  he 
produced  a  character  who  excites  our  emotions  and 
sympathies  so  much  as  the  tragic  figure  of  the  Egyptian 
princess  imploring,  supplicating,  and  answered  only 
by  the  dark  and  inexorable  pronouncements  of  the 
tribunal. 

The  double  stage  of  the  last  act  of  "Aida"  was  the 
idea  of  Verdi.  The  upper  half  of  the  stage  shows  the 
interior  of  the  temple  of  Vulcan  as  it  was  in  the  first 
act.  Again  the  tripods  are  giving  forth  the  fumes  of 
burning  incense,  again  the  priestesses  are  performing 
the  sacred  dances,  again  is  heard  the  music  of  the  in- 
vocation to  Phtha.  Underneath  is  the  vault  in  which 
Radames  is  entombed.  Two  priests  are  in  the  act  of 
nailing  down  the *  stone  which  imprisons  him  forever. 

66 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Radames  discovers  Ai'da,  who  has  preceded  him.  Noth- 
ing is  more  touching  than  the  final  song  that  Verdi  has 
given  his  lovers,  the  sensuous  song  of  love  for  which 
the  world  and  life  itself  are  well  lost.  The  two  voices, 
issuing  from  the  darkness  of  the  crypt,  mingle  with  the 
ancient  chant  of  the  priestesses  invoking  Phtha.  It 
is  the  music  of  the  lighted  temple  and  the  triumphant 
enemies  of  Ai'da  and  Radames  which  appears  dark  in 
mood  and  color,  while  from  underneath,  where  all  is 
shadow,  there  rise  harmonies  radiant  and  ecstatic. 

"  O  terra,  addio  "  ("  Farewell,  oh,  earth  ") 

Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle  and  Charles  Hackett          Columbia  Record  49734 
Sung  by  Emmy  Destinn  and  Giovanni  Zenatello    Columbia  Record  A  5399 

After  the  death  of  Rossini  in  1868  Verdi  suggested 
that  thirteen  Italian  composers  write  as  many  different 
numbers  of  a  requiem  mass  in  his  memory.  Verdi 
composed  only  the  last  number — the  "Libera  me."  As 
might  be  supposed,  the  various  numbers  were  so  dis- 
similar in  style  and  value  that  there  was  no  harmonious 
relation  or  proportion  between  them.  The  musician 
and  critic,  Alberto  Mazzucato,  was  so  struck  with  Verdi's 
music  that  he  wrote  him  begging  him  to  compose  the 
complete  mass.  Soon  after  this  Alessandro  Manzoni 
died.  Verdi  composed  in  his  memory  the  requiem  for 
chorus,  soloists,  and  orchestra  which  concluded  with 
the  number  originally  written  in  honor  of  Rossini. 
A  single  excerpt  from  this  work,  the  impressive  "Con- 
futatis  maledictus,"  will  imply  the  grandeur,  the  color, 
the  dramatic  feeling  of  a  stupendous  composition,  which 
solemnly  chants  the  repose  and  salvation  of  death,  the 
terrors  of  the  Judgment  Day.  "Confutatis  maledictus" 
is  from  the  "Dies  irse"  ("Day  of  wrath")  of  the  mass. 
"From  the  fate  of  the  accursed,"  sings  the  bass,  "O  God, 
deliver  me." 

67 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"  Confutatis  maledictus  "  ("  From  the  fate  of  the  accursed  ") 

Sung  by  Henri  Scott 
Columbia  Record  A  5442 

For  the  operas  "Otello"  and  "Falstaff  "  Arrigo  Boito, 
the  poet  and  musician,  of  whom  we  say  more  in  another 
chapter,  was  the  librettist,  and  never  had  composer  a 
stronger  and  finer  text  than  he  gave  Verdi.  For  fifteen 
years  Boito  had  dreamed  of  writing  a  libretto  on  the 
basis  of  "Otello,"  and  himself  composing  the  music, 
but  his  reverence  for  Verdi  was  so  great  that  he  effaced 
himself  with  an  affection  and  devotion  of  which  a  lesser 
man  would  have  been  incapable. 

"Otello"  was  produced  at  La  Scala,  Milan,  February 
5,  1887.  The  premiere  was  the  occasion  for  demonstra- 
tions of  enthusiasm,  intense  even  for  an  Italian  audience. 
For  weeks  before  the  performance  cab -drivers  and 
loungers  in  cafes  read  the  libretto,  as  they  did  when 
"Falstaff"  was  performed  six  years  later,  and  discussed 
it  passionately.  When  the  event  came  off  Boito  feared 
for  Verdi  at  the  hands  of  the  wildly  joyous  mob. 

Boito  begins  with  the  second  act  of  Shakespeare's 
play,  and  the  storm  with  which  the  opera  opens  is  not 
only  the  grandest  imaginable  evocation  of  the  elements, 
but  is  also  the  fitting  symbol  of  the  destructive  passions 
which  rage  in  Otello's  breast.  Characters  of  the  drama 
and  their  motives  are  set  forth  with  masterly  skill  and 
condensation.  The  virility  of  the  music,  its  concen- 
tration and  intensity  of  feeling,  are  matched  by  the  con- 
summate dramatic  technic  of  the  composer.  Uncanny 
is  the  atmosphere  established  by  Verdi  at  the  beginning 
of  the  last  act,  when  the  gentle  Desdemona,  filled  with 
premonitions  she  cannot  explain,  sings  the  "Willow 
song"  and  breathes  her  prayer. 

"  Canzone  di  salice  "  ("  Willow  song  ")  and  "  Ave  Maria  "  from  "  Otello  " 

Sung  by  G.  Delia  Rizza,  soprano 

Columbia  Record  E  1895 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Otello,  filled  with  remorse  when  he  knows  the  hor- 
rible injustice  of  his  crime,  cries  out,  as  he  stabs 
himself : 

"  I  kissed  thee  ere  I  killed  thee:  no  way  but  this; 
Killing  myself,  to  die  upon  a  kiss." 

"  Morte  d'Otello  "  ("  Death  of  Othello  ") 

Sung  by  Giovanni  Zenatello  Columbia  Record  A  5359 

Sung  by  Florencio  Constantino  Columbia  Record  A  5113 

Though  often,  in  his  later  years,  depressed  and 
melancholy,  Verdi  gave  the  world  as  his  last  creation 
not  a  tragedy,  but  a  comedy,  a  miracle  of  laughter  and 
song.  Boito  wove  the  libretto  of  "Falstaff"  (produced 
at  La  Scala,  February  9,  1893)  from  several  of  Shake- 
speare's dramas,  drawing  principally  on  "The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor.'  Shakespeare  is  said  to  have 
written  this  drama  in  fourteen  days  for  Elizabeth  of 
England,  when  the  Virgin  Queen  expressed  a  wish  "to 
see  Falstaff  in  love."  The  opera  is  all  too  seldom  per- 
formed, partly  because  of  the  difficulty  of  securing  in 
one  cast  the  number  of  great  singers  the  score  demands. 
It  was  composed  when  Verdi  was  eighty  years  old. 
"Genius,"  according  to  Mr.  Edgar  Lee  Masters,  "is 
wisdom  and  youth."  The  music  which  Verdi  created 
in  his  eightieth  year  was  surpassingly  young. 

Verdi  was  a  strong,  simple  man,  like  his  music.  He 
spent  the  later  years  of  his  life  on  his  farm  at  Sant' 
Agata,  where  there  was  not  even  a  good  piano,  where 
he  rose  at  five,  inspected  the  work  being  done  about  the 
estate,  raised  horses,  and  gave  extensively  and  anony- 
mously to  those  in  need.  Disliking  ceremony,  a  demo- 
crat to  the  backbone,  a  lover  of  people  who  were  sim- 
ple and  unassuming  like  himself,  he  preferred  the  Italian 
peasants  and  the  nature  about  him  to  great  cities  and 
applauding  throngs. 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

In  the  course  of  his  career,  Verdi  summarized  practi- 
cally the  entire  development  of  Italian  opera.  This  form 
first  came  into  definite  shape  at  about  the  beginning  of 
the  seventeenth  century.  The  ideals  of  the  early  Italian 
pioneers  of  the  music-drama  were  those  which  obtain 
to-day  with  the  greatest  opera  composers:  that  the 
music  must  be  throughout  dependent  upon  and  expres- 
sive of  the  dramatic  situation.  But  the  invention  of 
music-drama  led  in  turn  to  the  appearance  of  a  type  of 
melody  so  beautiful  in  itself  that  the  Italians  forgot  to 
compose  with  dramatic  truth  and  consistency,  and  con- 
tented themselves  with  writing  brilliant,  melodious  show- 
pieces for  favorite  singers.  The  ideals  of  the  first  opera 
composers  were  forgotten,  and  the  singer  reigned. 

Before  Verdi,  the  bright  star  of  Italian  opera  was 
Rossini.  His  genius  triumphed  over  the  conventions  of 
his  day.  He  had  a  number  of  brilliant  satellites,  among 
whom  we  now  recognize  two  as  being  pre-eminent,  Bel- 
lini and  Donizetti.  Their  best  music  still  charms  by  its 
grace  and  beauty,  but  it  is  music  of  a  time  that  is  past. 
Verdi,  starting  where  the  gifted  Rossini  and  his  colleagues 
had  stopped,  was  the  strong  man,  the  prophet  of  the 
new  era.  He  was  a  master  who  summed  up  in  his 
works  the  labors  and  dreams  of  a  thousand  lesser  men, 
a  patriot  who  grew  like  a  great  tree  from  the  ever-fruitful 
soil  of  his  native  land.  His  last  three  operas  contain 
the  essence  of  all  dramatic  music  which  has  since  come 
from  Italy.  Yet  they  are  inimitable  and  of  unapproach- 
able perfection  in  themselves.  Verdi  was  a  man  of 
passionate  convictions,  enduring  attachments,  unswerv- 
ing ideals  in  life  and  art.  The  homage  of  the  world 
was  his  when,  on  the  27th  of  January,  1901,  he  passed 
away. 

There  are  impressive  pages  in  operas  of  Verdi  not 
specified  in  the  preceding  chapter.  Records  of  selections 
from  these  works  will  afford  much  good  music  and  a 

70 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

more  detailed  survey  of  his  development  as  a  composer. 
Why  have  these  operas,  with  the  occasional  exception  of 
"The  Masked  Ball"  ("Ballo  in  Maschera")  and  "The 
Power  of  Destiny"  ("Forza  del  Destino")  failed  to 
hold  the  stage?  The  answer  lies,  no  doubt,  largely  in 
the  flimsy  and  melodramatic  character  of  the  libretti. 
No  composer  could  have  built  masterpieces  of  such 
materials.  It  appears  as  if  the  melodic  genius  and  the 
dramatic  passion  of  Verdi  had  sometimes  defeated  them- 
selves by  the  impulsiveness  and  impatience  of  the  man 
to  spill  blood  and  notes  in  the  theater.  His  genius,  like 
that  of  Handel,  seems  to  have  been  prodigal,  almost 
wasteful,  like  nature;  to  have  produced  with  a  kindred 
fecundity  and  carelessness  of  the  result.  Consider  the 
dates  on  which  these  different  works  appeared:  "Luisa 
Miller,"  an  orgy  of  jealousy,  poison,  and  murder,  is 
produced  in  Naples  in  1849.  It  is  on  the  whole  a  poorer 
work  than  "Ernani,"  mounted  five  years  before.  Only 
two  years  after  "Luisa  Miller"  comes  "Rigoletto,"  in 
1851,  the  first  of  Verdi's  operas  to  hold  a  place  in  the 
repertory  of  to-day,  a  work  much  more  modern  in  certain 
passages,  and  better  knit  than  "II  Trovatore,"  which 
appeared  in  1853.  It  was  after  "Rigoletto,"  "Trova- 
tore," and  "Traviata" — six  years  after,  in  1859 — that 
the  first  public  performance  of  "The  Masked  Ball,"  an 
arrant  hodgepodge  of  the  great  and  the  ridiculous,  was 
given.  And  so  with  other  works.  Genius  is  not  an 
orderly,  pedestrian  thing.  It  is  a  thing  of  ebb  and 
flood,  calm  and  storm,  like  the  sea. 

"SiMON  BOCCANEGEA"  (Venice,  1857) 

Although  both  prologue  and  final  act  of  this  opera  are 
reputed  to  have  much  distinction,  the  work  as  a  whole 
has  not  kept  the  stage — probably  because  of  a  weak  and 
confused  libretto.  In  Cologne  in  1875  Verdi  saw  a  per- 
formance of  Schiller's  drama,  from  which  the  plot  was 

71 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

drawn,  and  cried  out,  "Ah,  what  a  fine  poem  Piave 
might  have  made  for  me!"  "II  lacerato  spirito"  is  the 
lament  of  Simon  Boccanegra,  who,  returning  to  the 
city  from  which  he  has  been  absent  for  twenty-five  years, 
encounters  a  funeral  cortege,  headed  by  the  body  of  a 
girl  he  had  loved  and  betrayed.  In  the  opera,  the  solo 
voice  is  answered  by  a  chorus  of  grief. 

"  II  lacerato  spirito  "  ("  The  wounded  spirit  ") 
Sung  by  Jose  Mardones 
Columbia  Record  A  5201 

"BALLO  IN  MASCHERA"  ("THE  MASKED  BALL")    (Rome,  1859) 

Many  tributes  have  been  paid  that  city  facetiously 
known  as  "the  hub  of  the  universe,"  but  few  have  been 
so  astonishing  as  the  placing  of  the  scene  of  Verdi's  opera, 
"Ballo  in  Maschera,"  in  Boston,  Massachusetts.  The 
original  title  of  the  opera,  the  libretto  by  Somma,  was 
"Gustavus  III."  An  episode  was  the  assassination  of 
the  Swedish  monarch.  While  the  rehearsals  were  in 
progress  occurred  the  attempted  assassination  of  Na- 
poleon III  by  Orsini.  It  was  dangerous  to  excite  the 
Italian  public  of  that  day  by  dwelling  too  heavily  on 
the  killing  of  monarchs.  The  Austrian  censor  ordered 
Verdi  to  change  his  plot.  This  the  composer  refused 
to  do.  The  manager  of  the  theater  sued  Verdi  for  not 
delivering  his  opera  on  time.  Crowds  assembled  under 
Verdi's  window  and  cheered  him.  The  war  for  Italian 
independence  had  begun.  Verdi's  name  had  patriotic 
significance.  Thus  V.  E.  R.  D.  I.  came  to  mean  "Viva 
Vittorio  Emanuele,  Re  D 'Italia"  ("Long  live  Victor 
Emmanuel,  King  of  Italy").  Finally  the  name  of 
"Richard,  governor  of  Boston,"  was  substituted  for 
Gustavus,  and  in  costumes  of  our  Puritan  forefathers 
the  opera  was  performed.  When  Mario,  the  tenor,  sang 
in  the  opera,  he  refused  to  wear  the  sober  garb  of  the 
Puritans  and  was  allowed  to  appear  in  the  costume  of 

72 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

a  Spanish  grandee!  In  late  productions  the  scenes  of 
the  opera  have  been  changed  to  "A  northern  country." 

Riccardo  loves  Amelia,  wife  of  his  secretary,  Renato. 
He  consults  a  negro  sorceress  to  decipher  the  future  and 
overhears  Amelia,  who  has  come  to  the  same  place  for 
a  love-cure,  declare  that  she  loves  him.  Amelia,  veiled, 
meets  Riccardo  in  a  lonely  spot.  The  devoted  Renato 
hurries  thither,  to  save  his  chief  from  approaching  con- 
spirators. He  discovers  his  wife's  identity  and  later 
stabs  Riccardo  at  a  masked  ball.  Riccardo,  falling, 
swears  that  Amelia  is  innocent. 

A  very  tuneful  aria  is  that  of  the  faithful  Renato,  in 
the  first  act,  when  he  warns  Riccardo  that  his  life  is  not 
safe  in  the  palace.  There  are  enemies  whose  hatred  is 
swifter  than  the  love  of  Riccardo's  subjects,  who  wait  the 
opportunity  to  strike. 

"  Alia  vita  che  t'arride  "  ("  The  life  thou  dost  cherish  ") 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  77085 

"Eri  tu"  is  Renato' s  denunciation  of  Amelia,  when 
he  believes  her  to  have  betrayed  his  honor.  The  in- 
troductory trumpet  blast,  the  dramatic  fervor  of  the 
music,  make  a  very  effective  baritone  aria  in  the  old  style. 

"  Eri  tu  macchiavi  "  ("  Thou  didst  sully  that  spirit  pure  ") 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  49221 

"LA  FORZA  DEL  DESTINO"  ("THE  POWER  OF  DESTINY") 

(Petrograd,  1862) 

The  libretto  is  by  Piave,  after  a  drama  by  the  Duke 
of  Rivas.  Alvaro  is  about  to  elope  with  Leonora  when 
her  father,  the  Marquis  de  Calatrava,  enters  the  room. 
Alvaro' s  pistol  accidentally  goes  off,  killing  the  marquis. 
Alvaro  and  Leonora  flee  to  escape  the  consequences  of 
this  deed.  Leonora  knocks  at  the  door  of  a  monastery, 

asking  leave  to  take  refuge  in  an  abandoned  hermitage 

"  73 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

near  by.  The  monks  promise  to  keep  her  secret. 
Leonora's  brother,  Don  Carlos,  swears  to  avenge  his 
father's  death  and  kill  his  sister's  lover.  But  he  and 
Alvaro  become  brother  officers  and  firm  friends  in  the 
army,  neither  knowing  the  identity  of  the  other.  When 
this  is  disclosed  they  fight,  and  Carlos  is  wounded. 
Alvaro  retires  to  a  monstery — the  same  near  which 
Leonora  lives.  Carlos  follows  him.  They  fight  again 
and  Carlos  is  again  wounded.  Leonora  rushes  from  her 
hut,  and  stumbles  over  the  body  of  her  brother,  who 
recognizes  and  stabs  her  before  he  dies.  The  book  of 
the  opera  was  revised  when  it  was  produced  in  Milan 
in  1869.  Thus  there  is  more  than  one  ending.  The 
prevailing  one  is  that  in  which,  Don  Carlos  and  his 
sister  dying,  Alvaro  goes  insane  and  leaps  from  a  preci- 
pice. Verdi  composed  this  work  in  grim  earnest,  and 
there  are  scenes  of  gripping  intensity  and  musical  power. 
One  of  the  most  celebrated  passages  of  the  opera  is  the 
overture,  which  contains  many  of  the  musical  motives 
that  appear  later  in  the  work,  and  which,  with  that 
tumultuous  eloquence  that  the  orchestra,  greatest  of 
all  musical  instruments,  possesses,  foretells  the  tragedy 
that  is  to  come. 

Overture  and  selections  from  "  Forza  del  Destine  " 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6113 

The  scene  in  which  Leonora  implores  the  aid  of 
Heaven  and  blesses  the  monks  of  Hornacuelos  for  the 
protection  they  give  her  is  extremely  impressive.  It 
takes  place  before  the  monastery,  and  the  voices  of 
the  chanting  monks  are  heard  as  a  musical  background 
of  the  desperate  appeal  of  Leonora. 

"  La  vergine  degli  angeli  "  ("  The  angelic  virgin  ") 

Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle,  with  Chorus 

Columbia  Record  49558 

74 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

It  is  while  Carlo  and  Alvaro  are  as  brothers,  fighting 
side  by  side,  and  before  their  insane  enmity  has  de- 
veloped, that  they  sing  the  great  duet,  vowing  eternal 
trust  and  friendship. 

"  Solenne  in  quest  ora  "  ("  Solemnly  in  this  hour  ") 
Sung  by  Charles  Hackett  and  Riccardo  Stracciari 
Columbia  Record  49666 

"DoN  CARLOS"  (Paris,  1867) 

In  "Don  Carlos"  Verdi  anticipated  the  grand  pro- 
portions, the  elevated  style,  of  "Aida."  The  libretto, 
based  on  Schiller's  drama,  is  the  work  of  Mery  and 
Camille  du  Locle,  and  is  far  superior  in  matter  and  in 
style  to  those  of  the  operas  immediately  preceding. 
Don  Carlos,  son  of  Philip  II  of  Spain,  is  betrothed  to 
Elizabeth  of  Valois,  daughter  of  Henry  IV  of  France. 
The  French  king,  for  reasons  of  state,  sets  aside  the  en- 
gagement and  gives  Elizabeth  to  King  Philip.  The 
youthful  lovers,  though  torn  apart,  cannot  restrain 
their  affection.  Their  secret  is  discovered  by  the  jeal- 
ous Princess  Eboli,  who  informs  the  king.  Don  Carlos, 
on  the  advice  of  the  Grand  Inquisitor,  is  imprisoned. 
He  is  visited  in  his  cell  by  his  friend,  Roderigo.  The 
suspicions  of  the  Grand  Inquisitor  being  aroused, 
Roderigo,  popular  with  the  people,  as  well  as  a  former 
favorite  of  the  king,  is  shot.  Because  of  a  revolt  of 
the  populace,  afterward  quelled,  Carlos  is  released.  At 
night,  under  the  shadow  of  deserted  cloisters,  he  meets 
the  queen  to  say  farewell.  The  two  are  discovered  by 
the  king  and  Carlos  is  delivered  into  the  hands  of  the 
Inquisitor. 

"Ella   giammai  m'amo1  " 

Sung  by  Leon  Rothier 

Columbia  Record  A   5812 

"Ella  giammai  m'amo'"   is  the  dramatic  soliloquy 

7  75 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

of  the  king,  sung  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  act. 
He  knows  now  that  Elizabeth  can  never  love  him,  that 
kings  can  command,  but  there  is  a  realm  where  their 
mandates  are  helpless.  In  the  use  of  the  orchestra,  in 
the  expressively  written  accompaniment  and  the  force 
of  declaration,  this  air  is  a  significant  predecessor  of  the 
music  of  "Ai'da." 


LUDWIG  VAN  BEETHOVEN 

HISTORY  plays   strange   tricks.     There   is   some- 
thing very  near   the   spirit    of   America    in    the 
career  of  Ludwig  van  Beethoven.     He  appears 
in  music  as  the  supreme  prophet  of  democracy.     He  was 
born  (1770-1827)  in  the  period  of  the  American  War  for 
Independence  and    a   quarter  of  a  century  before  the 
French  Revolution,  waged  in  the  names  of  "Liberty, 
Equality,  Fraternity."     The  forces  which  were  reshaping 
society  fashioned  his  soul. 

Of  common  stock,  Beethoven  rose  to  the  heights 
through  sheer  greatness  and  force  of  will.  He  was 
contemptuous  of  rank  or  precedent,  and  had  that  in  him 
which  compelled  respect,  even  homage,  from  the  high- 
born. His  life,  though  not  without  honors  and  suc- 
cesses, was  tragic.  The  affliction  of  deafness  added 
indescribably  to  his  burdens.  Yet  he  could  toil  and 
fight  on.  He  could  roar  with  laughter,  he  could  adore 
liberty,  he  could  preserve  to  the  end  an  utter  absorption 
in  his  art  and  a  passionate  adherence  to  the  noblest 
ideals.  Other  music  than  his  haunts  us  because  of  its 
sheer  loveliness,  or  eloquence,  or  color,  or  poetry — what 
you  will.  But  the  music  of  Beethoven  is  nearer  and 
farther  than  that.  It  is  first  of  all  the  music  of  a  strong 
man,  a  brother,  passionately  human.  It  has  a  deeply 
emotional  quality  which  no  other  music  had  in  like 
degree  before  Beethoven  appeared.  It  is  clean  and 
heroic,  a  proclamation  for  all  time  of  the  great  destiny 
of  humanity,  the  loving-kindness  of  God,  and  the  god- 
hood  of  man. 

77 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Beethoven's  mother  was  a  cook,  his  father  a  court 
singer  and  a  drunkard.  A  portion  of  the  father's  salary 
was  soon  paid  direct  to  Ludwig,  who  shouldered  in  a 
considerable  degree  the  responsibilities  of  the  family. 
There  were  three  brothers,  one  of  whom  died  in  infancy. 
The  other  two,  Carl  and  Johann,  petty  souls,  helped  to 
make  Beethoven's  life  wretched  by  secret  traffic  and 
profiting  in  his  compositions.  (It  was  one  of  these  in- 
dividuals, purse-proud  at  some  paltry  gain,  who  sent 
Ludwig  his  card,  with  the  additional  title,  "land-owner," 
and  wTho  received  in  exchange  the  signature,  "Ludwig 
van  Beethoven,  Brain-owner.")  The  father's  family 
came  from  Louvain  in  Belgium.  Hence  the  "van"  in 
Beethoven's  name,  which  was  probably  of  social  assist- 
ance to  him,  but  which  was  not  a  certificate  of  nobility 
like  the  "von"  in  Germany. 

Beethoven,  despite  his  surroundings,  was  fortunate  in 
the  training  of  his  talent  and  the  friends  he  made  in 
high  places.  He  was  rather  cruelty  subjected  to  the 
education  of  the  child  prodigy.  He  had  his  first  lessons 
at  four,  and  played  in  concert  at  eight.  He  composed  a 
set  of  variations  at  ten,  and  was  pianist  and  conductor 
at  the  theater  when  he  was  thirteen.  In  the  following 
year  he  made  his  first  pay  as  organist.  In  1787  he  con- 
trived to  visit  Vienna,  where  he  played  to  Mozart,  who 
tiptoed  from  the  room  and  whispered,  "That  young 
man  will  make  a  noise  in  the  world."  Of  equal  or 
greater  importance  in  Beethoven's  early  development 
is  the  broadening  of  his  mental  horizon,  through  his 
acquaintance  with  aristocracy  and  people  of  the  great 
world,  his  reading,  considerably  more  extensive  than 
that  of  the  average  musician  of  the  day,  and  his  acquaint- 
ance with  several  languages.  Haydn,  too,  encouraged 
him  in  his  studies — they  had  not  yet  become  the  enemies 
they  became  in  later  years — and  in  1792  Beethoven  went 
to  Vienna,  where  he  passed  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

78 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Almost  from  the  beginning  he  annoyed  his  teachers 
by  what  they  could  only  construe  as  a  scoffing  disrespect 
for  things  known  and  done.  Beethoven  one  day  re- 
marked that  it  was  "good  occasionally  to  learn  what 
was  according  to  rule,  in  order  that  one  may  later  arrive 
at  what  is  contrary  to  rule."  But  he  never  made  a  new 
rule  until  he  had  mastered  the  old  one.  The  self- 
restraint  he  exercised  when  his  youthful  genius  was 
urging  him  to  smash  conventions  to  smithereens  and  go 
on  his  way  is  as  remarkable,  and  as  characteristic  of  his 
mind,  as  the  audacious  originality  discovered  in  his  later 
scores.  He  was  learning,  and  biding  his  time.  When 
that  time  came,  knowing  his  power,  certain  of  his  destiny, 
Beethoven  struck  out  music  to  ring  through  the  cen- 
turies. He  freed  his  art  forever  from  the  shackles  of 
formalism  and  conventionality.  He  gave  music  an 
energy  and  a  revolutionary  impulse  it  has  never  lost. 
He  seemed  to  his  contemporaries,  even  to  other  com- 
posers, an  anarchist  of  tones.  Actually  he  was  the 
prophet  of  the  new  era. 

Compare  any  well-known  masterpiece  of  Beethoven 
with  the  comparatively  polite  and  polished  music  of  his 
predecessors,  not  excepting  the  two  immortals,  Haydn 
and  Mozart,  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Take  the  best 
of  the  Haydn  symphonies,  or  even  the  C  major  or  G 
minor  symphonies  of  Mozart,  and  put  them  by  Beetho- 
ven's Fifth.  In  the  symphonies  of  Haydn  and  Mozart 
there  is  music  of  heavenly  grace  and  transparency. 
In  the  music  of  Beethoven  there  is  a  depth  of  meaning, 
a  grandeur  of  utterance,  and  a  fiery  spirit  which  sweeps 
everything  before  it. 

On  the  manuscript  of  his  Fifth  Symphony,  according 
to  Schindler,  Beethoven  wrote,  "Thus  fate  knocks  at 
the  door."  At  once,  without  classic  preamble,  like  a 
thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky,  sounds  the  fate  motive. 
Four  tones  only.  Four  hammer  strokes  of  destiny! 

79 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

The  last  tone  is  prolonged  and  vibrated  with  the  whole 
strength  of  the  orchestra,  as  if  the  irresistible  force  had 
met  the  immovable  body,  and  the  two  were  to  strive 
together  for  eternity.  The  motive  is  driven  home  by 
immediate  repetition,  after  which  it  begins  to  whisper 
and  mutter  and  thunder  through,  the  registers  of  the 
orchestra.  It  is  nearly  always  present,  in  one  form  or 
another,  throughout  the  movement,  and  it  is  a  wonderful 
example,  in  addition  to  its  dramatic  meaning,  of  the  way 
in  which  Beethoven  could  take  an  acorn  of  a  musical 
idea  and  make  from  it  a  vast  forest  of  sound.  Even 
when  the  second  theme,  a  short,  pleading  melody, 
appears,  the  fate  motive  is  heard  softly,  as  an  accom- 
paniment, in  the  bass.  It  soon  overwhelms  the  gentle 
song,  swallowed  in  the  orchestral  fury.  Theme  shatters 
against  theme.  There  are  moments  of  exhaustion,  sighs 
of  weariness  and  dejection,  but  the  music  quickly 
gathers  fresh  energy  and  rage,  and  in  this  mood  the 
movement  comes  to  an  end. 

No  wonder  that  such  rugged  and  virile  art  annoyed 
the  conservatives  of  Beethoven's  day.  But  could  any- 
one have  failed  to  respond  to  the  slow  movement  which 
follows?  It  opens  with  an  instrumental  song  which 
might  well  have  inspired  the  verse  of  Henley: 

"It  matters  not  how  straight  the  gate, 

How  charged  with  punishment  the  scroll, 
I  am  the  captain  of  my  fate: 
I  am  the  master  of  my  soul." 

With  his  sure  instinct  for  the  right  expression,  Beetho- 
ven is  no  longer  complex  or  dramatic.  He  weaves  a 
series  of  masterly  variations  about  the  main  melody, 
first  given  to  the  violoncellos  of  the  orchestra.  This 
melody  has  two  long  principal  phrases.  The  first  phrase 
is  peaceful  and  contemplative  in  spirit,  the  second 
partakes  more  of  the  character  of  heroic  resolve.  The 

80 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

ending  is  the  expression  of  a  man  who  has  found  fresh 
strength  to  face  the  battle  of  life. 

Andante  from  Fifth  Symphony 

Played  by  New  York  Philharmonic  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5954 

The  Fifth  Symphony  is  in  four  movements.  Most 
unprecedented  of  them  all,  in  some  respects,  is  the  third 
movement,  the  "Scherzo,"  which  Beethoven  substituted 
for  the  "Minuet"  established  as  part  of  the  symphony 
by  his  forerunners.  There  is  music  of  restless  foreboding, 
then  a  sudden  outburst  of  Beethovenish  laughter.  Mys- 
terious pluckings  and  whisperings  of  the  strings  are 
interrupted  by  the  trumpet,  which,  full-voiced,  raps  out 
a  new  version  of  the  Fate  theme.  Later  on  the  orchestra 
subsides,  sustaining  softly  a  certain  chord.  Little  is 
heard  for  many  measures  save  a  drum  which  marks  the 
rhythm,  like  the  heartbeat  of  one  in  a  trance.  At  last 
the  drumbeat  quickens  and  swells,  and  with  one  mighty 
crescendo  the  instruments  launch  into  a  finale  made  of 
fanfares  and  shouts  of  victory — paens,  salutations,  to  the 
dauntless  human  soul. 

That  is  the  kind  of  music  that  Beethoven  liked  to  write. 
Not  that  he  failed  to  take  pleasure  in  many  lighter  moods 
and  smaller  forms.  See,  for  example,  the  Minuet  of  his 
piano  sonata,  Opus  31,  No.  3,  with  the  flowing,  Mo- 
zartean  melody  of  its  first  part,  and  the  sly  humor  of  the 
middle  section,  in  which  Beethoven  jests  and  digs  us  in 
the  ribs  (Minuet  of  sonata,  Opus  31,  No.  3,  arranged  for 
orchestra:  Columbia  Record  A  5952).  But  it  was  in  the 
romantic,  prophetic  vein  that  he  stood  highest  above 
all  others.  It  is  from  this  height  that  his  spirit  broods 
to-day  over  the  world. 

And  what  of  Beethoven,  the  man?  He  was  under 
average  height,  but  of  powerful  and  stocky  build.  He 

was  ugly,  yet  fascinated  everyone  he  met,  if  he  did  not 

61 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

first  make  him  a  mortal  enemy !  The  forehead  was  high 
and  broad,  the  eyes  dark,  the  lips  somewhat  protruding, 
with  an  effect  of  fierceness.  Everything  about  the  man 
betokened  force,  impetuousness,  and  an  iron  will.  His 
hands  were  broad  and  strong,  covered  with  coarse  black 
hair — bear's  paws.  Beethoven  was  a  hairy  man.  He 
had  to  shave  to  the  eyes! 

At  first,  newly  come  to  Vienna,  and  astonishingly  well 
received  by  the  aristocracy,  he  dressed  pretentiously  and 
sparked  it  with  the  best  of  them.  "It  is  good  to  be 
with  the  aristocracy,"  he  said,  "but  one  must  impress 
them."  Nothing  is  more  striking  than  the  position  he 
immediately  took  in  this  society,  where  a  musician  was 
ranked  a  little  lower  than  a  butler.  Bui  as  his  deafness 
increased  Beethoven  drewT  the  more  into  himself  and 
became  continually  less  attentive  to  conventions.  He 
would  be  seen  wralking  in  the  country,  of  which  he  was 
a  passionate  lover,  gesticulating,  shouting  like  a  maniac, 
singing  at  the  top  of  his  voice  the  melodies  which  were 
pressing  for  utterance. 

In  striking  contrast  to  his  disregard  of  exterior  detail 
are  his  system  and  industry  as  a  composer.  No  idea 
was  too  trivial  for  Beethoven  to  put  down  immediately 
in  his  notebook.  Then  the  idea  commenced  to  grow. 
It  would  be  altered,  polished,  revised  any  number  of  tiroes 
until  it  had  the  strength,  beauty,  and  significance 
the  composer  demanded  of  his  musical  material  before 
he  transformed  it  into  a  sonata,  a  string  quartet,  or  a 
symphony.  His  music  was  produced  with  pain  and 
travail,  but  he  was  indefatigable  in  his  labors,  and  the 
longer  he  worked  at  a  composition,  the  more  spontaneous 
it  appeared  to  be. 

Much  of  Beethoven's  irritableness  and  suspicion  of 
even  his  best  friends  has  been  laid  to  his  deafness.  Un- 
doubtedly this  did  embitter  his  disposition,  but  he  would 
in  any  event  have  been  a  terrible  fellow.  His  rage  when 

82 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

he  found  or  suspected  he  had  been  imposed  upon  was 
often  comical,  and  always  beyond  restraint.  A  waiter 
who  displeased  him  in  a  restaurant  was  grasped  firmly 
by  the  collar  and  the  stew  poured  over  his  head.  He 
pelted  a  cook  with  bad  eggs  which  had  been  served  him. 
He  would  fling  dishes,  books,  articles  of  furniture  at 
servants,  even  when  they  were  servants  of  noble  friends 
who  entertained  him.  And  milord  would  suffer  no 
condescension!  Lichnowsky,  as  Beethoven's  host,  gave 
orders  that  Beethoven's  bell  should  be  answered  before 
his.  Beethoven,  hearing  of  this,  at  once  engaged  a 
servant  to  wait  only  on  himself.  He  detested  sycoph- 
ancy, and  once  changed  his  lodgings  because  the  land- 
lord, a  baron,  insisted  on  taking  off  his  hat  every  time 
they  met.  He  wTas  a  most  objectionable  tenant,  and 
for  reasons  which  can  easily  be  imagined  was  always 
changing  his  lodgings.  He  loved  to  pour  water  over  his 
hands  and  would  not  notice  that  the  basin  had  over- 
flowed and  the  floor  was  flooded.  On  a  fine  morning  he 
stood  before  a  window  in  his  nightshirt,  forgetful  of 
that  fact  and  in  genuine  wonderment  as  to  "what  those 

d d  boys  were  hooting  at."     In  a  temper  he  was 

quick  to  insolence  and  sarcasm.  He  was  always  fond  of 
horseplay  and  practical  jokes,  but  only  when  they  were 
on  the  other  fellow.  No  man  was  safe  from  his  ire, 
commoner  or  aristocrat  though  he  might  be.  At  a 
rehearsal  Prince  Lobkowitz  made  an  entirely  logical  and 
friendly  remark.  Beethoven  promptly  took  offense,  and 
could  hardly  wait  for  the  rehearsal  to  come  to  an  end 
to  follow  Lobkowitz  to  the  gateway  of  his  palace,  where 
the  composer  stood  for  some  time,  telling  the  world, 
in  no  uncertain  terms,  that  Lobkowitz  was  an  ass — an 
ass.  The  sober  truth  is  that  Beethoven  in  certain  moods 
was  boorish,  offensive,  and  overbearing.  It  is  to  the 
infinite  credit,  not  only  of  himself,  but  his  fine  friends, 
that  in  spite  of  everything  they  esteemed  him  for  what 

83 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

he  was,  and  in  most  cases  remained  loyal  to  the 
end. 

Beethoven  was  always  in  love,  and  this  in  the  most 
high-minded  manner.  He  adored  quixotically  the  beauty 
of  women,  which  he  exalted  to  the  skies.  The  letters  to 
Theresa  von  Breuning,  and  those  to  the  "unknown 
beloved,"  are  but  a  few  of  many  in  the  same  tenor. 
Among  innumerable  Beethoven  legends  are  those  which 
tell  of  his  being  unable  to  marry  certain  noble  dames 
because  of  differences  in  rank.  One  doubts  very  much 
whether  this  was  the  reason  for  his  loneliness.  The  true 
causes  lay  in  all  probability  in  his  capricious  temper,  in 
the  deafness  which  grew  upon  him,  and  in  his  unsettled 
circumstances.  Nothing  in  his  letters,  not  even  the 
communication  addressed  to  his  brothers  and  known 
as  the  "Will,"  seems  more  pathetic  than  his  outcry, 
"O  God,  let  me  at  last  find  her  who  is  destined  to  be  mine 
and  who  shall  strengthen  me  in  virtue!"  Beethoven, 
worshiping  the  genius  of  Mozart,  nevertheless  regretted 
that  Mozart's  greatest  operas,  "Don  Giovanni"  and 
"The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  were  based  on  licentious 
plots,  and  Beethoven's  one  opera,  "Fidelio"  (produced 
at  the  Theater  an  der  Wien,  November  20,  1806),  is 
among  the  few  music-dramas  which  glorify  conjugal  love. 

This  great  opera,  for  reasons  which  need  not  detain 
us,  has  never  had  a  widespread  success,  but  if  the  theater 
has  thereby  suffered  a  loss,  the  concert  room  is  incalcu- 
lably the  gainer.  Beethoven  has  compressed  in  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  and  dramatic  of  all  overtures  the  very 
essence  of  his  situations.  Listening  to  the  music,  one 
should  understand  the  motives  of  the  drama.  Florestan 
has  been  cast  into  prison  by  his  enemy,  Pizarro.  Flores- 
tan's  loving  wife,  Leonore,  disguises  herself  as  a  jail- 
er's assistant.  She  secures  entrance  to  the  dungeon. 
When  Pizarro  descends  to  murder  his  victim  she  flings 

herself  in  front  of  the  assassin's  pistol,  at  the  moment 

84 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

that  the  trumpet  call  01  their  deliverers  sounds  from 
the  ramparts  above. 

This  is  the  moment  anticipated  in  the  Third  "Leonore" 
Overture,  usually  played  as  a  prelude  to  the  last  act  of 
the  opera  in  which  the  climactic  situation  occurs. 
Four  overtures  were  composed  for  this  opera,  of  which 
the  original  title  was  "Leonore."  A  dreamy  introduc- 
tion leads  to  the  main  body  of  the  overture.  Strings 
intone  a  joyous  melody  of  deliverance.  Group  after 
group  of  instruments  catch  fire  with  this  motive  until 
it  is  hymned  tumultuously  by  the  full  orchestra.  Later, 
following  two  chords  of  the  horns,  comes  the  second 
theme,  "made  of  sobs  and  sighs."  These  motives 
develop  with  agitation,  until  the  orchestra,  with  an  imper- 
ious flourish,  leads  up  to  the  trumpet  call  which  is  the 
dramatic  climax  of  the  opera.  It  is  answered  softly  by 
the  song  of  thanksgiving  which  Leonore  sings  in  the 
third  act.  Again  the  trumpet  sounds,  this  time  nearer; 
again  the  song  of  thankfulness;  and  the  overture  ends 
with  frantic  rejoicing.  Thus  Beethoven  imagined  the 
love  that  never  became  his. 

Beethoven's  creative  life  has  been  roughly  divided,  for 
purposes  of  classification,  into  three  "periods."  The 
first  is  his  formative  period,  up  to  about  1800,  a  period 
partly  of  imitation  and  partly  of  original  and  romantic 
expression,  as  exemplified  in  the  so-called  "Moonlight 
Sonata,"  the  poetic  piano  concerto  in  G  major,  the 
First  and  Second  symphonies,  and  the  famous  Kreutzer 
sonata  for  piano  and  violin,  which  inspired  the  singular 
tale  of  Tolstoi.  To  the  second  period,  the  beginning  of 
which  coincides  with  the  time  of  Beethoven's  realization 
that  his  deafness  was  incurable,  belong  the  "Waldstein" 
and  "  Appasionata "  sonatas,  the  "  Rasoumowsky " 
string  quartets,  the  opera  "Fidelio,"  the  violin  con- 
certo, and  the  last  piano  concerto,  called  the  "Em- 
peror." This  period,  it  will  be  observed,  is  also  co- 

85 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

incident  with  the  rapid  growth  of  democratic  ideals  hi 
Europe,  following  the  French  Revolution.  It  is  the 
time  of  equi-balance,  in  Beethoven's  art,  between  the 
early  imitative  compositions  and  the  late  mystical 
works  in  which  he  communes  alone  with  -his  God.  To 
the  final  period  belong  the  last  great  quartets  and  piano 
sonatas,  the  Eighth  and  Ninth  symphonies.  This  period 
in  Beethoven's  life  was  accompanied  by  complete  deaf- 
ness and  by  the  infinite  vexations  and  miseries  brought 
upon  him  by  his  rascally  nephew,  whom  Carl,  dying 
in  1815,  had  bequeathed  him  as  a  final  tribulation  of  his 
life. 

In  spite  of  the  dark  clouds  that  had  gathered  about 
him,  in  spite  of  the  endless  complications  and  worries 
occasioned  by  his  nephew's  peccadillos,  Beethoven  never 
expressed  more  purely  and  nobly  his  love  of  his  fellow- 
man,  his  worship  of  God,  than  in  the  Ninth  symphony. 
As  if  he  had  exhausted  the  expressive  capacities  of  in- 
struments, he  employs  here  a  chorus  and  solo  voices  to 
intone  the  words  of  Schiller's  "Ode  to  Joy":  "Let 
millions  of  beings  embrace.  May  this  kiss  reach  the 
entire  world!  Brethren,  beyond  the  stars  there  must 
dwell  a  dear  Father.  Millions,  do  ye  prostrate  your- 
selves? World,  dost  thou  recognize  the  Creator? 
Seek  Him  above  the  canopy  of  the  stars!  There  is 
His  dwelling-place." 

When  this  work  was  produced  Beethoven  stood  in  the 
orchestra.  He  could  not  hear  a  sound.  Deep  in 
thought,  he  remained  motionless,  his  head  sunk  on  his 
breast,  unaware  when  the  last  note  had  been  played. 
One  of  the  singers  took  his  arm  and  gently  turned  him 
about.  There  stood  the  multitude,  risen  to  its  feet, 
cheering,  waving  hats  and  canes,  while  many  burst  into 
tears  at  the  pitifulness  of  the  figure  before  them. 

This  was  May  7,  1824.  In  1827,  racked  by  bodily  ills 
and  by  mental  suffering  more  terrible,  Beethoven  awaited 

86 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

his  end.  Dropsy  developed.  "Better  water  from  my 
body,"  he  said,  grimly,  "than  from  my  pen."  Nature 
elected  that  he  should  die  with  fitting  ceremony.  He 
lay  in  a  coma  as  an  electric  storm  burst  overhead.  There 
was  a  lightning  flash,  a  clap  of  thunder,  and  the  uncon- 
scious man  raised  his  fist  and  shook  it  at  the  heavens. 
So  the  spirit  passed,  in  the  storm. 


FRANZ   PETER  SCHUBERT,  a  shy,  fat-backed, 
bespectacled  little  man,  came  into  a  restaurant  one 
morning    in  July,   1826.      He  had    been   walking 
through  villages  and  fields  all  sun  and  dew.     He  joined 
a  friend  at  breakfast,  and  there  on  the  table  lay  open 
a  copy  of  Shakespeare's  "Cymbeline."     Schubert's  eye 
fell  on  the  lines  which  begin: 

"Hark!   hark!   the  lark  at  heav'n's  gate  sings, 
And  Phoebus  'gins  arise  .  .  ." 

"Ah!"  he  cried,  "such  a  lovely  melody  has  come  into 
my  head,  had  I  but  some  music  paper." 

His  friend  quickly  ruled  some  staves  on  the  back  of  a 
menu,  and  in  a  trice  the  lovely  immortal  song  was  com- 
posed. This  song  has  made  its  way  over  the  whole 
world  and  has  been  variously  arranged  for  different 
instruments.  The  transcription  made  by  Liszt  for  the 
piano  preserves  remarkably  the  morning  mood  and  the 
suggestion  of  the  lark  rising  in  the  skies. 

"  Hark!     Hark!     The  Lark  "  (Schubert-Liszt) 
Played  by  Leopold  Godowsky 
Columbia  Record  A  5484 

That  was  the  way  in  which  Schubert  created  his 
music.  He  could  not  write  it  down  fast  enough.  What 
was  no  less  wonderful  was  the  perfect  form  in  which 
most  of  his  melodies  came  to  him.  He  seldom  revised 
them,  and  the  song  we  have  just  mentioned  is  only  one 
of  many  composed  in  similar  fashion.  For  music  was 

88 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Schubert's  natural  speech.  He  was  in  the  habit  of 
expressing  himself  in  the  tones  of  gods  and  angels,  as  if 
that  were  the  most  ordinary  thing  to  do. 

Schumann  said  that  Schubert  could  have  written 
music  to  an  advertisement. 

The  appearance  of  such  a  figure  is  at  once  tragic  and 
tormenting  to  those  foolish  enough  to  ponder  over  the 
unsolvable.  How  is  such  genius  made?  Why  should  it 
appear  in  such  a  body?  Why  should  its  possessor  suf- 
fer? Schubert  asked  very  little  of  the  world.  A  few  boon 
companions  who  understood  him,  a  jaunt  in  the  country, 
a  romp  with  a  not  too  formal  crowd,  when  he  would 
make  his  iat  little  fingers  fly  over  the  keyboard  in 
waltzes  of  his  own  improvising,  or  play  his  favorite 
version  of  the  "Erl-King"  on  a  comb,  and  poems  to 
turn  into  wonderful  songs,  and  enough  music  paper  to 
compose — these  were  his  simple  needs.  He  had  a  right 
to  live  and  be  happy.  He  lived  in  poverty,  and  died 
overworked,  penniless,  at  an  early  age.  His  possessions, 
including  literally  bushels  of  masterpieces,  were  valued 
by  the  appraiser  at  a  little  more  than  ten  dollars. 
Beethoven  had  passed  away,  a  few  months  before,  with 
great  men  about  him,  with  funeral  ceremonies  in  many 
cities.  Schubert  lived  all  his  life  in  or  near  that  same 
Vienna  in  which  Beethoven  made  himself  a  power,  and 
few  in  the  city  knew  or  cared  when  he  disappeared. 

Schubert  never  heard  many  of  his  masterpieces,  and 
nothing  seems  more  strangely  symbolic  of  his  career  than 
the  fate  of  his  "Unfinished"  symphony.  He  began  this 
symphony  in  18 2 2  as  the  only  return  he  could  make  for 
the  overwhelming  honor  of  having  been  elected  a  member 
of  a  local  music  society.  Two  movements  are  extant, 
and  there  are  nine  measures  of  a  third.  Whether 
Schubert  tucked  the  music  away  in  a  drawer  and  then 
forgot  about  it,  as  he  often  did  with  his  compositions,  or 
became  busy  with  another  project,  no  one  knows.  The 

89 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

fragments  of  the  "Unfinished"  symphony  which  came  to 
light  thirty-two  years  after  Schubert  had  died  are 
precious  beyond  price,  and  so  acknowledged  by  audiences 
the  world  over. 

Anselm  Huttenbrenner,  a  friend  of  Schubert's  youth, 
prided  himself  on  being  also  something  of  a  composer. 
In  1860  the  conductor  Herbeck  was  informed  that  Anselm 
possessed  some  Schubert  manuscripts,  including  a 
symphony.  It  was  hinted  that  if  Herbeck  would  per- 
form a  work  of  Anselm's  he  might  also  have  the  sym- 
phony of  Schubert  for  his  program.  Perhaps  Herbeck 
thought  the  price  too  high,  even  for  a  Schubert  compo- 
sition, but  after  an  interval  of  five  years  he  visited  old 
Anselm,  awaiting  his  end  in  a  tumble-down  cottage  at 
Graz,  and  said  to  him,  "I  think  of  presenting  to  the  pub- 
lic three  contemporaries,  Huttenbrenner,  Schubert,  and 
Lachner.  What  have  you  that  I  can  play?" 

Anselm  brightened  up;  they  selected  one  of  his  over- 
tures, then  rummaged  around  among  the  manuscripts  of 
Schubert.  Herbeck's  eye  fell  on  the  score  of  the  "Un- 
finished" symphony.  Concealing  his  excitement,  he 
said,  carelessly:  "This  will  do.  May  I  take  it  along 
and  have  it  copied  at  my  expense?"  "Go  ahead,"  said 
Anselm ;  "  there's  no  hurry."  And  thus  it  befell  that  the 
"Unfinished"  symphony  of  Schubert  was  first  heard 
between  a  composition  by  one  Huttenbrenner  and  a 
composition  by  one  Lachner,  in  Vienna,  December 
17,  1865. 

This  symphony  is  Schubert,  "the  most  poetical 
musician  that  ever  was,"  at  the  height  of  his  powers. 
The  first  movement  expresses  passionate  melancholy, 
but  Schubert  has  taken  us  to  a  realm  where  the  most 
bitter  sorrows  are  transmuted  into  exquisite  sounds. 
The  symphony  begins  with  a  somber  motive  deep  down 
in  the  double  basses.  The  oboe  intones  its  lament  over 
an  agitated  accompaniment  of  the  violins,  which  has 

90 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

suggested  to  some  commentators  the  restlessness  of  the 
sea.  After  the  sustained  tone  of  a  horn,  the  violoncel- 
los take  up  one  of  the  loveliest  melodies  in  orchestral 
music.  All  this  material  is  treated  with  a  mastery  and 
economy  of  means  which  brings  Schubert  as  a  symphon- 
ist  very  near  to  Beethoven. 

First  and  Second  Movements  of  "  Unfinished  "  Symphony 
Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  5748 

What  can  be  said  of  the  movement  which  follows? 
It  is  music  such  as  only  Schubert  and  no  other  human 
being  could  conceive.  He  speaks  to  us  from  another 
realm  in  which  he  habitually  lived,  a  realm  unknown  to 
the  great  number,  or  vaguely  perceived  by  other  com- 
posers, who  recall  what  they  have  heard  as  clearly  as 
they  may  and  put  it  ^down  as  best  they  can.  Schubert 
speaks  to  us,  in  the  words  of  Sir  George  Grove,  with  a 
magic,  a  romance,  a  sweet  naturalness  which  no  one  has 
yet  approached.  Edmonstoune  Duncan  speaks  of  the 
"strange  blending  of  peace  and  passion."  There  is  vista 
after  vista  of  beauty.  A  hymnlike  progression  for  horns 
and  bassoons  is  accompanied  by  a  descending  "pizzi- 
cato" passage  for  the  strings.  Later  the  clarinet  enters 
with  a  melody  of  haunting  pathos.  A  transformation  of 
this  motive,  in  tragic  vein,  is  given  the  brass  under  whirl- 
ing figures  for  the  strings.  The  conclusion  is  rapturous, 
wistful,  but  remote  from  earthly  struggle  or  striving. 

There  was  little  of  the  dramatic  in  the  life  of  Schubert. 
There  was  much  that  speaks  of  the  piteous  meagerness 
of  his  existence  and  the  typical  care-free  Viennese  tem- 
perament which  carried  him  through  his  youth  with 
little  thought  for  the  morrow,  and  much  happiness, 
despite  his  circumstances,  in  his  art  and  his  friends. 
He  was  born  in  1797,  the  son  of  a  poor  schoolmaster 

of  the  Lichtenthal  district,  near  Vienna,  and  one  of  a 
8  91 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

family  of  fourteen.  Long  before  he  knew  the  formulas 
of  harmony  he  began  to  compose.  Soon  he  was  playing 
the  violin  at  quartet  performances  with  his  father  and 
two  brothers.  Having  a  fine  soprano  voice,  he  was  sent 
in  his  eleventh  year  to  the  school  where  singers  for  the 
Imperial  Choir  were  trained.  There  he  was  miserable. 
He  almost  starved.  He  could  not  afford  even  n-usic 
paper  to  compose  on.  Nevertheless,  he  acquired  there  a 
knowledge  of  piano,  organ,  and  thorough-bass,  and  a 
generous  friend,  learning  of  the  shortness  of  music 
paper,  came  to  his  aid. 

Leaving  this  institution,  Schubert  himself  taught 
school  in  order  to  avoid  the  military  conscription,  com- 
posing indefatigably  in  intervals  of  his  drudgery.  A 
generous  and  lively  young  man,  Schober,  came  to  Vienna 
to  study,  and  invited  Schubert  to  share  lodgings  with 
him.  From  that  time  on  it  was  farewell  to  the  school- 
room and  every  other  form  of  official  labor.  It  is  dif- 
ficult to  tell  how  Schubert  supported  himself,  but  hence- 
forth he  lived  only  for  music.  He  gathered  about  him 
a  circle  of  Bohemians,  among  thejn  the  tenor  Vogl,  the 
inspired  interpreter  of  his  songs.  Schubert  composed 
in  one  year — 1815 — two  symphonies,  eight  light  operas, 
sacred  music,  numerous  compositions  for  piano  and 
string  quartet,  and  a  total  of  one  hundred  forty -six  songs ! 
Among  these  was  the  "Erl-King,"  which  he  composed 
in  a  fit  of  inspiration  in  less  than  an  hour  after  reading 
Goethe's  ballad. 

The  days  flew  by  swiftly,  the  manuscripts  increased 
hourly  in  their  numbers,  and  still  Schubert  was  unknown, 
unhonored,  unsung,  by  all  but  a  few  associates.  He 
lived  in  music,  poetry,  and  dreams.  In  1818  he  secured 
an  engagement  as  music  master  for  the  household  of 
Count  Esterhazy.  For  the  first  and  only  time  in  his 
life  he  was  secure,  comfortable,  and  well  paid.  He 
secretly  tired  of  it  all  and  longed  to  be  back  in  Vienna. 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Tradition  says  that  he  loved  Caroline,  the  count's 
seventeen-year-old  daughter.  Tradition  is  to  be  sus- 
pected. Schubert  wrote  home. the  most  enthusiastic 
praise  of  the  charms  of  the  ladies'  maid,  adding  that  the 
butler  was  his  rival,  and  showing  rather  plainly  that  he 
was  happier  in  the  servants'  quarter  than  in  the  presence 
of  his  noble  patrons,  who  were  not  too  serious  in  their 
love  of  music.  "So  I  am  left  alone  with  my  beloved" 
(meaning  his  music,  not  the  ladies'  maid)  "and  have  to 
hide  her  in  my  room,  or  in  my  piano,  or  in  my  bosom." 

He  was  happier  when  he  got  back  to  town  and  went 
into  lodgings  with  the  poet  Mayrhofer,  a  grand  and 
gloomy  fellow,  who  kept  alive  by  means  of  a  government 
job.  It  was  a  damp,  dismal  old  house,  with  a  drooping 
ceiling,  with  old  ragged  furniture,  poor  light,  and  general 
poverty.  Mayrhofer  got  out  early  in  the  morning. 
Schubert  slept  in  his  spectacles,  so  that  he  could  get  to 
work  immediately  on  arising  from  bed.  He  worked 
some  seven  hours,  till  two  in  the  afternoon.  Then  he 
dined  for  a  Zwanziger  (seventeen  cents)  if  he  had  it,  and 
spent  the  evening  with  his  friends.  He  was  never  safe 
from  inspiration,  however,  and  sometimes  the  dinner 
hour  would  fly  by  while  he  was  composing. 

He  was  happier  still  when  he  left  Mayrhofer  at  home 
and  wandered  with  Vogl  and  one  or  two  other  com- 
panions in  the  mountains  of  upper  Austria.  It  was 
Yogi's  home  place,  and  whenever  they  went  they  were 
welcomed,  honored,  and  entertained.  On  the  occasion 
of  a  second  trip,  in  1825,  Schubert  composed  his  "Ave 
Maria,"  one  of  seven  settings  for  lines  from  Scott's 
"Lady  of  the  Lake."  Vogl  sang  the  song  to  various 
gatherings  as  they  went  along  the  road,  and  always  it 
had  a  great  effect.  Schubert  himself  recounts  his 
experience:  "All  were  much  impressed,  especially  by  the 
'Ave  Maria.'  .  .  .  My  new  songs  from  Walter  Scott's 
'Lady  of  the  Lake'  have  been  very  successful.  People 

93 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

were  greatly  astonished  at  the  devotion  which  I  have 
thrown  into  the  hymn  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  it  seems 
to  have  seized  and  impressed  everybody.  I  think  that 
the  reason  of  this  is  that  I  never  force  myself  into  devo- 
tions, or  compose  hymns  or  prayers  unless  I  am  really 
overpowered  by  the  feelings;  that  alone  is  real,  true 
devotion."  The  "Ave  Maria"  is  played  to-day  as 
often  as  it  is  sung.  The  melody  hardly  needs  words  to 
express  its  feeling. 

"  Ave  Maria  " 
Played  by  Eugen  Ysaye 
Columbia  Record  36907 

A  thing  often  remarked  about  Schubert  was  his  care- 
lessness in  the  choice  of  poems  for  musical  setting.  It  is 
as  if  he  were  compelled  to  seize  whatever  lay  nearest 
him  as  a  vehicle  for  the  melodies  which  he  had  to  pour 
out  as  long  as  he  lived.  By  the  side  of  songs  to  poems 
by  Goethe,  Schiller,  Heine,  Mayrhofer  he  puts  twelve 
or  twenty  songs  inspired  by  such  obscurities  as  Holtz 
and  Kosegarten.  And  it  was  the  same  with  his  operas. 
He  always  yearned  to  write  for  the  stage.  He  usually 
chose  for  this  purpose  impossible  libretti.  Sometimes, 
in  spite  of  the  book,  the  music  survived,  and  this  is  the 
case  with  the  music  of  "Rosamunde."  "Rosamunde, 
Princess  of  Cyprus"  was  the  title  of  an  extravagant  plot 
by  Madame  von  Chezy.  Schubert  completed  the  music 
to  this  play  in  five  days  and  it  was  performed  December 
23,  1823.  The  drama  quickly  killed  itself  and  was  for- 
gotten. The  music  was  lost,  and  only  discovered  in 
Vienna  in  1867  by  two  English  travelers.  One  of  the 
themes  from  the  "Rosamunde"  music  Schubert  turned 
later  into  the  piano  "Impromptu"  in  B  flat  with  the 
variations.  Other  excerpts  from  this  score,  which  is  be- 
witchingly  beautiful,  survive  in  arrangements  for  or- 
chestra and  for  various  instruments.  Among  these  are 
parts  of  the  music  for  the  ballet. 

94 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Ballet  music  from  "  Rosamunde  " 

Played  by  Raoul  Vidas 

Columbia  Record  A  3313 

Schubert  was  much  discouraged  by  the  failure  of 
"Rosamunde."  These  and  other  circumstances  af- 
fected his  health.  But  a  second  visit  to  the  home  of  the 
Esterhazys,  and  the  second  tour  he  took  in  the  Austrian 
mountains  with  Vogl,  restored  his  spirits.  He  was  en- 
chanted by  the  fact  that  he  received  one  hundred  dollars 
for  the  seven  songs  from  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake." 

Harder  days,  however,  were  upon  him,  and  he  was 
too  generous  to  keep  a  penny.  Then  came  the  death  of 
Beethoven,  which  greatly  saddened  the  younger  man. 
Schubert  had  adored  Beethoven  for  many  years  before 
they  met.  He  often  sat  at  another  table  in  Beethoven's 
favorite  restaurant  and  worshipped  him  from  afar.  At 
last  a  meeting  was  arranged.  Schubert  stood,  confused, 
helpless,  in  the  presence  of  the  master.  He  was  handed 
the  carpenter's  pencil  and  paper,  on  which  everyone 
who  wished  to  communicate  with  the  deaf  Beethoven 
had  to  write.  Beethoven  examined  some  variations 
which  Schubert  had  written  and  dedicated  fulsomely  to 
him.  His  eye  fell  on  a  chord  which  surprised  him.  He 
pointed  it  out  and  turned  an  inquiring  eye  on  the  young 
composer.  Schubert,  frightened  out  of  his  wits,  ran 
out  of  the  room.  Beethoven,  reading  Schubert's  songs 
on  his  deathbed,  was  deeply  concerned  that  he  had 
remained  so  long  in  ignorance  of  their  contents.  There 
was  a  last  meeting,  when  Beethoven  could  not  talk,  and 
Schubert,  choking  with  grief,  again  fled  from  the  room. 
Outside  he  drank  two  healths,  the  first  to  the  soul  de- 
parting, the  second  to  that  one  of  Schubert's  circle  who 
should  be  the  first  to  follow.  That  one  was  Schubert, 
who  had  less  than  a  year  to  live.  His  last  year  was 
one  of  feverish  production.  Fourteen  of  the  last  songs 
Schubert  composed  were  issued  after  his  death  under 

95 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

the  title  of  "Swan  Songs."  Among  these  was  the 
beloved  "Serenade,"  one  of  the  purest  and  most  poetic 
expressions  of  a  lover's  devotion. 

Schubert's  Serenade 

Sung  by  Patterson  and  Jell 

Columbia  Record  A  5274 

Schubert  had  burned  himself  out,  not  in  dissipation, 
but  in  hard  work,  in  irregular  hours,  in  festivities  inno- 
cent enough,  but  not  calculated  to  add  to  his  strength 
and  endurance.  He  wanted  to  go  again  into  the  moun- 
tains, which  might  well  have  prolonged  his  days.  But 
there  was  no  money.  A  friend  sold  six  of  Schubert's 
finest  songs  for  twenty  cents  apiece,  and  hurried  to  the 
composer  with  the  proceeds. 

Schubert  lay  on  his  bed,  his  mind  affected,  with  the 
name  of  Beethoven  on  his  lips.  Most  of  his  friends  had 
forgotten  him.  Only  his  brother  Ferdinand  cared  for 
him  devoutly,  and  the  great  world  passed  by,  indifferent 
to  the  end  of  "the  sweetest  of  all  singers,  the  simplest 
of  all  souls" — we  again  quote  from  Sir  George  Grove. 

What  Schubert  might  have  done  had  he  lived  one  can 
only  conjecture.  He  was  the  originator  of  the  modern 
romantic  song,  the  founder  of  a  whole  school  of  great 
German  song  writers.  He  it  was  who  made  the  accom- 
paniment as  expressive  a  part  of  the  song  as  the  voice, 
and  who  found  for  the  words  of  the  great  romantic  poets 
of  his  day  the  melodies  which  cleaved  to  them  like  a 
twin  soul.  He  wrote  six  hundred  and  three  songs  in  all. 
To  classify  them  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  chapter.  To 
enumerate  the  greatest  of  them  would  be  to  lose  one's 
way  among  masterpieces. 

Where  Schubert  had  most  room  to  grow  was  in  the 
matter  of  musical  structure.  In  his  symphonic  compo- 
sitions— the*  "Unfinished"  symphony  being  the  exception 
— he  is  prone  to  repetitions,  to  pour  his  ideas  too  hastily 

96 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

and  thoughtlessly  into  the  classic  molds  which  lie  ready 
for  them.  As  an  instrumentalist  he  expressed  himself 
with  especial  felicity  in  those  charming  and  romantic 
pieces  for  piano  which  he  called  "Impromptus"  and 
•\Musical  Moments."  The  "Moment  Musical"  in  F 
minor  is  one  of  those  elusive,  fanciful  visions  which  came 
so  wonderfully  to  the  homely,  awkward  little  fellow  who 
wTas  the  most  lovable  of  comrades,  the  most  unassuming 
of  artists,  and  who  would  deserve  immortality  if  only 
for  the  fact  that  he  did  not  consider  himself  the  greatest 
musician  who  ever  lived.  (Columbia  record  A  2121). 

Schubert  asked  little  of  life,  and  gave  all.  He  was  no 
match  for  the  world.  He  cared  nothing  for  it.  He  had 
no  sense  of  injury,  because  he  never  imagined  his  own 
greatness.  It  is  given  to  some  to  gain  honors  and  riches, 
to  others  to  find  their  souls.  "My  music,"  said  Schu- 
bert, "is  the  product  of  my  genius  and  my  misery,  and 
that  which  I  have  written  in  my  greatest  distress  is  that 
which  seems  best  to  the  world." 


FELIX  MENDELSSOHN 

FELIX  MENDELSSOHN  (Jacob  Ludwig  Felix 
Mendelssohn-Bertholdy)  was  the  one  great  com- 
poser who  enjoyed  riches  and  affluence  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave.  He  had  every  advantage  of  educa- 
tion. His  career  was  successful  from  beginning  to  end. 
He  has  been  spoken  of  with  condescension  as  a  gentleman 
composer.  The  wonder  is  that  in  spite  of  it  all  Men- 
delssohn produced  so  much  good  music. 

He  was  descended  of  a  remarkable  Jewish  family. 
His  grandfather  was  Moses  Mendelssohn,  a  philosopher, 
widely  known  as  "the  modern  Plato."  The  father, 
Abraham  Mendelssohn,  a  banker  and  a  man  of  brilliant 
culture,  laid  the  foundations  of  his  fortune  in  Paris. 
There  he  met  and  married  the  beautiful  Leah  Salomon. 
They  moved  to  Berlin,  where  the  Mendelssohn  home 
became  the  headquarters  of  the  leading  musicians, 
painters,  writers,  and  philosophers  of  the  day.  As  the 
genius  of  Felix  became  known  Abraham  was  wont 
laughingly  to  say  that  "whereas  he  formerly  was  known 
as  the  son  of  his  father,  he  was  now  known  as  the  father 
of  his  son." 

It  would  be  hard  to  imagine  a  boyhood  happier  than 
Mendelssohn's.  In  1825,  when  he  was  in  his  sixteenth 
year,  the  family  moved  from  the  center  of  Berlin  to 
what  was  then  known  as  No.  3,  Leipsic  Street,  an  estate 
of  some  acres  with  a  large  mansion,  fine  old  trees,  gar- 
dens, and  a  pavilion  where  there  was  music  every  Sunday 
afternoon.  Of  the  four  children,  Fanny,  the  eldest, 
was  herself  a  gifted  pianist  and  composer.  Felix  was  the 

98 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

second  child.  Felix  and  a  friend  edited  a  journal  known 
in  summer  as  The  Garden  Times  and  in  winter  as  The 
Snow  and  Tea  Times.  Writing  materials  lay  always  at 
hand  in  the  summerhouses,  and  often  distinguished 
visitors  contributed  to  the  journal. 

In  this  place  in  his  seventeenth  year  Mendelssohn 
produced  the  greatest  work  of  his  lifetime,  the  Over- 
ture to  Shakespeare's  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream." 
Through  the  summer  of  1826  he  read  Shakespeare  in 
translation  with  Fanny,  and  it  could  not  have  been  hard, 
as  the  sinking  sun  shone  through  the  branches  of  the 
old  trees  and  every  hour  tinged  the  scene  with  fresh 
beauty,  to  enter  the  poet's  realm.  In  every  measure  the 
music  breathes  its  witchery  and  spell.  Four  chords,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  Overture,  transport  us  to  the  forest 
of  Oberon  and  Titania.  We  hear  the  scamper  of  Puck, 
the  accents  of  young  lovers  astray  with  midsummer 
madness,  and  the  comical  antics  of  Bottom  and  his 
fellow-clowns.  The  musical  ideas  are  developed  with 
the  most  delightful  fancy,  and  the  same  four  chords 
which  open  the  Overture  bring  its  ending,  as  if  the 
curtain  had  risen  and  fallen  on  Shakespeare's  fantasy. 

Years  later,  at  the  command  of  King  Friedrich  IV  of 
Prussia,  Mendelssohn  added  to  his  Overture  other  pieces 
to  be  played  while  Shakespeare's  drama  was  performed. 
In  writing  these  new  pieces  he  was  fortunate  in  recaptur- 
ing the  mood  of  his  early  Overture.  Several  excerpts 
from  the  music  incidental  to  the  drama  have  been  ar- 
ranged for  concert  use.  The  first  of  these  is  the  Scherzo 
played  in  the  theater  after  the  first  act.  It  is  the 
sprightly  music  of  the  elves,  the  flight  of  Puck  "through 
brake  and  brier." 

Scherzo  from  incidental  music  to  "  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  " 
Played  by  Cincinnati  Symphony  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  6190 
99 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Another  passage  of  exquisite  beauty  is  the  Nocturne 
played  after  the  third  act,  music  inspired  by  the  sleep  of 
Titania.  The  third  composition  of  a  group  which  has 
long  been  a  feature  of  orchestral  programs  is  the  cele- 
brated Wedding  March,  which  rivals  Wagner's  wedding 
music  from  "Lohengrin"  in  its  popularity  at  marriage 
ceremonies.  This  march  preserves  in  its  brilliant  and 
festal  measures  much  of  the  glamour  and  atmosphere  of 
Shakespeare's  poetry.  It  remains,  in  a  sense,  music  of 
another  world;  a  march  for  a  royal  pair,  with  fairies  in 
their  train. 

Wedding   March   from   incidental   music   to   "  A   Midsummer   Night's 

Dream  " 

Played  by  the  Chicago  Symphony  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  5844 

By  the  time  Mendelssohn  had  produced  his  Overture 
to  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream"  he  was  fairly 
launched  on  his  career.  He  had  made  his  first  public 
appearance  at  ten,  composed  his  first  music  of  account 
at  twelve,  and  astonished  and  delighted  the  poet  Goethe 
by  his  playing  at  the  age  of  thirteen.  This  was  the  be- 
ginning of  a  warm  friendship  which  existed  between 
Goethe  and  Mendelssohn  until  the  death  of  the  aged 
poet  in  1832. 

In  1829  Mendelssohn  set  off  on  his  travels,  like  other 
young  men  of  means  and  social  station  of  the  day. 
He  visited,  in  three  years,  France,  Britain,  and  Italy, 
and  the  multitude  of  new  impressions  had  an  important 
effect  on  his  music.  In  London  he  was  well  received  in 
society,  eventually  establishing  friendly  relations  with 
Queen  Victoria.  He  traveled  by  foot  and  diligence  in 
Scotland.  There  he  saw  a  procession  of  bagpipers  pass 
before  the  castle  where  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  had 
mourned  for  Rizzio  slain.  He  visited  the  Hebrides  and 

heard  the  lament  of  many  waters.     These  things  went 

1  loo 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

into  the  pages  of  his  "Scotch"  symphony,  finest  of  all 
his  works  in  that  form,  and  the  "Hebrides"  overture, 
second  only  in  originality  and  inspiration  to  the  music 
from  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream." 

He  remained  always  the  genial  Mendelssohn.  His 
music  reflected  with  passing  somberness  of  color  certain 
impressive  scenes,  but  he  was  no  man  for  tragedy,  and 
he  was  not  a  revolutionist  in  his  art.  There  are  people 
who  will  travel  all  the  world,  and  see  many  strange 
things,  but  not  change  very  much  because  of  their 
experiences.  Mendelssohn  took  with  him  everywhere 
the  handsome,  intelligent,  vivacious— Mendelssohn.  His 
"Songs  Without  \Vcrds"  are  like  pages  from  a  rather 
naive  diary.  They  seem  to  be  saying  "a  nice  letter 
from  sister  Fanny  this  morning,"  or,  "a  delightful  ride 
in  a  gondola  as  we  came  through  Venice,"  or,  "I  wonder 
what  Miss  This-that-or-the-other  is  thinking  of  me  now" 
—for  he  philandered  pleasantly  and  harmlessly  with 
many  young  ladies.  The  first  of  the  "Songs  Without 
Words"  appeared  in  1828  or  1829.  As  they  came  from 
the  presses  they  were  eagerly  taken  up,  particularly  by 
the  English  people,  with  whom  Mendelssohn  was  as 
popular  as  Handel  had  been  a  century  before.  These 
compositions  have  become  household  music  in  England 
and  America.  The  names  by  which  they  are  known 
have  usually  been  bestowed  by  publishers,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, the  name  of  one  of  the  shortest  and  most  pleas- 
ing of  them  all,  "Consolation."  On  the  other  hand,  it 
is  impossible  not  to  hear  in  the  "Spinning  Song"  the 
whir  of  the  spinning-wheel,  an  effect  which  in  the  hands 
of  a  virtuoso  pianist  is  always  successful. 

"  Consolation  "  (Prince's  Orchestra)  Columbia  Record  A5932 

"  Spinning  Song  "  (Josef  Hofmann,  pianist)        Columbia  Record  A2434 

Mendelssohn's  philandering  came  to  an  end  in  due 

course  when  he  fell  in  love  in  1836  with  Cecile  Jean- 

101 

UNIVERSITY  07  OALIF 
SANTA  BARBARA  GOLLE< 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

renaud,  daughter  of  the  pastor  of  the  French  Reformed 
Church  at  Frankfort.  Falling  in  love  with  her,  he  did  a 
thing  quite  natural  to  him.  He  went  away  for  a  month 
to  the  seaside  to  test  his  feelings.  Satisfied  that  he  had 
not  been  mistaken,  he  returned,  proposed,  and  was 
accepted.  The  bride  was  a  beautiful  girl  and  the  mar- 
riage was  very  happy,  but  Mendelssohn  had  become  so 
famous  and  so  much  immersed  in  his  work,  that  even  his 
honeymoon  was  cut  short  by  musical  engagements.  He 
appears,  however,  to  have  composed  at  this  time  one 
of  his  most  delightful  piano  pieces,  the  "Rondo  Capric- 
cioso."  In  his  piano  music  he  has  seldom  equaled  the 
beauty  of  the  twilight  introduction,  or  the  mercurial 
humor  of  the  flashing,  elusive  passages  which  follow, 
when  he  is  again,  in  fancy,  the  companion  of  forest 
sprites. 

"  Rondo  Capriccioso  " 
Played  by  Josef  Hofmann 
Columbia  Record  A  6078 

A  work  which  in  spite  of  Mendelssohn  himself  became 
a  favorite  of  concert  audiences  is  the  Overture  to  "Ruy 
Bias."  Mendelssohn  composed  it  between  a  Tuesday 
evening  and  a  Friday  morning,  for  the  fiftieth  anniver- 
sary concert  of  the  Theatrical  Pension  Fund  at  Leipsic 
in  1839.  He  detested  Hugo's  play.  He  had  little  esteem 
for  his  own  music.  When  he  was  conducting  a  rehearsal 
of  the  London  Philharmonic  Society  in  1844  he  tried  the 
Overture  through,  and  liked  it  no  better  than  before. 
George  .  Andersen,  a  violinist  of  the  orchestra  and 
director  of  the  Royal  Private  Band,  complimented 
Mendelssohn  on  his  work.  Mendelssohn  replied  angrily 
that  he  intended  to  burn  it.  Andersen  begged  him  to 
reconsider,  and  asked  if  he  might  not  play  it  to  their 
Majesties.  This  he  did.  Their  Majesties,  Queen  Vic- 
toria and  the  Prince  of  Wales,  were  delighted.  There- 

102 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

after  Mendelssohn  played  to  the  Queen  and  the  Queen 
sang  for  Mendelssohn  (who  was  more  a  Victorian  than 
he?),  and  whatever  the  merits  of  opposing  opinions,  the 
Overture,  published  after  Mendelssohn's  death,  found  a 
highly  appreciative  public. 

MacFarren,  the  Irish  composer,  finds  in  the  "slow,  , 
imperious  chords"  of  the  introduction,  which  more  than 
once  recur  in  the  course  of  the  work,  "the  thought  of 
the  iron-minded  minister  who,  offended  at  the  neglect  of 
his  royal  mistress,  avenges  this  by  the  advancement  of 
his  minion  to  the  highest  state  offices,  in  order  that  the 
romantic  menial  may  win  the  Queen's  affection,  and 
she  be  disgraced  by  the  exposure  of  her  lowly  passion. 
The  wild  ardor  with  which  the  allegro  begins  must  figure 
the  extravagant  passion  of  the  servitor  hero.  The  pas- 
sionate cantabile,  with  its  gorgeously  rich  orchestration" 
(referring  to  the  melodious  second  theme  of  the  Over- 
ture) "suggests  the  idea  of  the  guileless  lady  who  is  the 
victim  of  her  minister's  machinations.  And  the  sequel 
tells  of  the  rapture  of  Ruy  Bias,  when,  in  his  strange 
exaltation,  the  object  which  he  scarcely  durst  desire 
is  within  his  reach — nay,  in  his  very  possession — the 
reciprocation  of  his  love." 

"  Ruy  Bias  "  Overture 

Played  by  H.  M.  Grenadier  Guards 

Columbia  Record  A  5773 

Mendelssohn  had  been  thinking  for  some  time  of  a 
violin  concerto.  As  far  back  as  1838  he  had  written 
the  violinist  David:  "I  should  like  to  write  a  violin 
concerto  for  you  next  winter.  One  in  E  minor  is  running 
through  my  head,  and  the  beginning  does  not  leave  me 
in  peace."  Seven  years  later  David  played  this  work, 
on  the  13th  of  March,  1845.  Mendelssohn  had  seldom 
taken  so  long  with  a  composition,  even  allowing  for 
interruptions  and  delays  caused  by  other  engagements. 

103 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

He  wished  it  not  only  to  sound  well,  but  to  "lie  well" 
for  the  violinist.  He  was  rewarded  by  the  success  of 
the  concerto,  which  has  stood  ever  since  as  a  model  of  its 
kind.  The  song  of  the  violin  in  the  slow  movement  is 
one  of  the  most  poetic  melodies  he  ever  penned.  It  is 
also  very  typical  of  Mendelssohn's  talent.  Compared 
with  the  almost  religious  mood  of  the  slow  movement  of 
Beethoven's  violin  concerto,  it  is  somewhat  light,  but  it 
has  "atmosphere."  It  is  as  if,  when  evening  fell,  we 
traversed  with  friend  Felix  the  grounds  of  his  beautiful 
estate.  Shadows  fall  athwart  the  lawns  and  gardens; 
there  is  the  scent  that  certain  flowers  distil  in  the 
night;  the  wind  soughs  in  the  trees.  As  the  violin  and 
orchestra  converse,  one  feels  a  gentle  and  not  disa- 
greeable melancholy. 

Andante  from  Violin  Concerto 

Played  by  Kathleen  Parlow 

Columbia  Record  A  5843 

To  play  the  finale  a  violinist  must  have  fleetness. 
Mendelssohn  wrote  David,  "You  demand  that  it  should 
be  brilliant,  and  how  is  such  a  one  as  I  to  do  this?" 
He  need  not  have  depreciated  himself.  As  a  composer 
and  a  conductor  he  was  the  man  for  a  lively  pace.  He 
wrote  for  David  a  virtuoso  finale,  which  always  "brings 
down  the  house." 

Finale  from  Violin  Concerto 
Played  by  Eugen  Ysaye 
Columbia  Record  36520 

Friedrich  Wilhelm  IV  had  had  his  eye  on  Mendelssohn 
for  a  long  time.  He  wanted  him  to  fill  several  official 
positions,  which  Mendelssohn,  wise  in  his  generation, 
had  no  wish  to  occupy.  To  be  general  musical  director 
of  a  new  Cathedral  choir,  or  director  of  music  in  the  new 
Academy  of  Arts,  meant  staying  in  Berlin,  and  he  no 

104 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

longer  liked  Berlin.  There  was  jealousy  among  the 
musicians  of  that  city,  interminable  red  tape  in  all  things 
connected  with  music  for  royalty. 

The  spirit  of  Leipsic,  where  Mendelssohn  spent  much 
of  the  later  part  of  his  life  and  where  he  successfully 
founded  the  famous  Leipsic  Conservatory,  was  far  more 
artistic.  Mendelssohn  did  succeed  in  evading  or  re- 
signing from  several  of  the  royal  appointments,  but 
Friedrich's  heart  was  set  on  music  for  a  number  of 
dramas,  not  only  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  but 
dramas  by  Sophocles  and  Racine.  Mendelssohn  set  to, 
despite  other  exhausting  labor.  How  much  he  needed 
and  welcomed  a  respite  is  shown  by  a  letter  of  July,  1844, 
describing  a  few  days'  vacation  with  his  family,  "Eating 
and  sleeping  without  dress  coat,  without  piano,  without 
visiting  cards,  without  carriage  and  horses;  but  with 
donkeys,  with  wild  flowers,  with  music  paper  and  sketch 
books,  with  Cecile  and  the  children."  He  nevertheless 
succeeded  this  year  in  composing  the  Overture  and  the 
War  March  of  the  Priests  for  "Athalie." 

The  story  of  Athalia  is  told  in  II  Kings  and  II  Chroni- 
cles. The  march  is  that  of  the  fanatical  priests  who  go 
to  defeat  the  ungodly  queen,  and  place  again  on  the 
throne  the  rightful  ruler  of  Judea.  This  march  has  a 
sonority  and  pomp  which  fit  it  well  for  the  theater. 

"War  March  of  the  Priests" 
Played  by  Prince's  Band 
Columbia  Record  A  7502 

The  remainder  of  Mendelssohn's  life  was  only  different 
from  the  occasions  we  have  described  in  the  new  compo- 
sitions which  he  brought  forth  and  in  his  constant  ef- 
forts in  behalf  of  other  composers  and  the  cause  of  music. 
His  industry  was  extraordinary,  and,  what  was  more, 
every  pen  stroke  told,  whether  it  was  in  composing  or 
in  tending  personally  to  an  ever  increasing  correspond- 

105 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

ence.  He  was  the  most  industrious,  systematic,  and 
methodical  of  men.  He  wrote  music  with  such  mastery 
of  his  ideas  that  instead  of  preliminary  sketches  he 
could  frequently  put  down  the  notes  at  the  first  attempt 
in  their  final  form.  The  idea  seldom  became  unruly, 
as  great  ideas  often  do.  This  very  fact  is  an  important 
indication  of  the  quality  of  Mendelssohn's  talent.  It 
was  a  talent  of  the  second  rather  than  the  first  rank. 
As  we  have  inferred  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter, 
Mendelssohn's  career  was  too  secure  and  happy  for  him 
to  have  produced  the  greatest  music.  If  poverty  or 
tragedy  had  fertilized  his  genius,  who  knows  what  he 
would  have  done?  As  it  was,  he  produced  his  greatest 
work  at  seventeen,  from  which  time  his  talent  be- 
gan to  lose  instead  of  gain  in  originality.  His  technic 
constantly  improved  while  his  ideas  became  less 
striking. 

He  died  practically  of  overwork,  and  much  saddened 
by  the  death  of  his  sister  Fanny,  hi  his  thirty-ninth  year. 
This  was  not  the  tragedy  of  Schubert,  cut  off  at  the  full- 
ness of  his  powers.  Mendelssohn  had  completely  ex- 
pressed himself  in  his  Scotch  and  Italian  symphonies; 
his  overtures  to  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  "The 
Hebrides,"  "The  Fair  Melusina,"  and  lesser  works  of  the 
same  kind;  his  choral  works,  including  the  choral  setting 
of  the  "First  Walpurgis  Night"  from  Goethe's  "Faust," 
the  oratorios  "St.  Paul"  and  "Elijah,"  and  the  "Hymn 
of  Praise";  in  compositions  of  piano  and  chamber  music 
which  have  lived  virtually  one  hundred  years  and  given 
pleasure  and  solace  to  millions  of  people.  If  in  these 
works  Mendelssohn  was  not  an  innovator,  he  was  some- 
thing else  of  almost  equal  value.  His  sanity,  good  taste, 
and  consummate  workmanship  redounded  to  the  ever- 
lasting good  fortune  of  the  musical  art.  He  became  a 
balance-wheel  for  the  generally  radical  musical  ten- 
dencies of  his  period,  and  in  music  as  well  as  in  politics 

106 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

it  is  necessary  for  the  radical  to  be  balanced  by  the 
conservative. 

Mendelssohn's  genius  was  the  flower  of  generations  of 
culture  and  refinement.  Cut  off  from  the  common  soil 
of  life,  the  flower  withered,  the  plant  died.  He  was  an 
example  for  all  time  of  what  education  can  and  cannot 
do.  He  was,  nevertheless,  a  wonderfully  gifted  musician 
who  labored  with  infinite  zeal  and  a  high  conscience  for 
his  ideals.  He  had  a  deep  sense  of  his  obligation  to  his 
own  talent  and  his  duty  to  develop  it  to  the  utmost. 
Not  the  least  of  his  laurels  is  the  part  he  played  in  help- 
ing other  musicians,  and  notably  in  reviving  the  music 
of  Bach.  A  majority  of  men  produce  in  order  to  live. 
This  man,  who  had  no  material  cares,  lived  to  produce. 
He  made  the  most  of  his  gifts,  and  this  should  merit 
him  the  gratitude  and  respect  of  succeeding  generations. 


FREDERIC  FRANQOIS  CHOPIN 

ONE  of  the  most  mysterious  and  poetic  appearances 
in  the  history  of  music  is  that  of  Frederic  Fran- 
gois  Chopin,  born  on  the  22d  of  February,  1810,  in 
the  village  of  Zelazowa-Wola,  Poland.  How  explain  the 
haunting  perfume,  the  astonishing  perfection  of  his 
art?  It  seems  like  an  improvisation,  until  you  examine 
it  and  find  under  the  surface  a  structure,  delicate  but 
logical,  and  durable  as  tempered  steel.  It  is  difficult 
to  believe  it  was  made  by  the  hand  of  man.  Other 
composers  show  you  how  they  worked.  You  hear  them 
laboring  mightily  at  the  forge.  You  observe  where 
edges,  rough-hewn,  were  joined  together.  Chopin,  ap- 
parently without  an  effort,  achieves  a  masterpiece.  He 
seems  to  stand  a  little  aloof  from  his  brethren,  as 
might  a  favored  being  from  another  world. 

The  father  of  Chopin  was  French  professor  at  the 
University  of  Warsaw.  His  mother  was  a  Pole.  Fre- 
deric grew  up  a  delicate  child,  whose  morbid  sensi- 
tiveness to  impressions  was  tempered  by  the  society  of 
charming  sisters,  the  frequent  presence  at  his  home  of 
many  of  the  most  interesting  people  of  his  district,  and 
by  the  nature  about  him.  His  talent  was  manifested 
very  early  and  he  had  to  beware  of  the  hallucinations 
which  music  frequently  caused  him — visions,  sometimes 
beautiful,  at  others  terrible  and  painfully  distinct.  He 
often  frightened  the  servants  at  night-time  by  jumping 
up  in  his  room  at  the  top  of  the  house,  going  to  the 
piano,  and  noting  down  ideas  which  he  was  afraid  of 
forgetting  if  he  waited  till  the  morrow.  He  began  to 

108 


CHOPIN,  1810-1849 


THE   LURE    OF   MUSIC 

compose  before  he  knew  enough  of  the  art  to  write  out 
the  ideas  that  came  to  him,  and  his  teacher,  Zwyny,  an 
excellent  pedagogue  who  gave  Chopin  his  first  lessons 
when  he  was  about  seven  years  old,  had  to  take  down 
his  improvisations  for  him.  Chopin  commenced  the 
study  of  composition  with  Ellsner,  who  called  himself, 
in  a  letter  written  his  pupil  in  1834,  "your  teacher  of 
harmony  and  counterpoint,  of  little  merit  but  fortu- 
nate." Liszt  put  it  happily  when  he  said  that  Chopin's 
teachers  taught  him  those  things  which  are  most  diffi- 
cult and  valuable  to  learn — "to  be  exacting  with  one's 
self  and  to  feel  the  advantages  that  are  only  obtained 
by  dint  of  patience  and  labor." 

It  is  interesting  to  consider  the  manner  in  which 
Chopin  displayed  his  remarkable  originality  in  his  music. 
Other  composers  explored  unknown  paths.  He  kept 
almost  entirely  to  forms  already  fixed,  particularly  dance 
forms,  such  as  the  polonaise  and  the  mazurka,  and 
within  their  limits  did  entirely  new  things.  It  was  as 
if  a  jeweler  should  put  a  different  jewel  in  an  old  setting. 
The  waltzes  are  not  dances  for  the  ballroom,  but  the 
emotions  of  the  waltz — the  waltz  spiritualized.  The 
one  in  E  flat,  with  its  brilliant  opening,  its  gaiety  and 
caprice,  its  sentimental  dialogues,  is  surely  a  ballroom 
scene.  The  conclusion  is  very  poetic,  when  the  initial 
melody  is  heard  once  more,  as  in  a  dream. 

Valse  Brilliante,  Opus  34,  No.  1 
Played  by  Josef  Hofmann 
Columbia  Record  A  6045 

Each  of  the  waltzes  has  a  distinct  individuality.  No 
two  are  alike.  The  variety  of  style  and  expression  is 
astonishing.  Chopin  only  composed  when  he  had  some- 
thing to  say,  and  was  never  satisfied  until  he  had  found 
the  one  inevitable  form  for  his  idea.  In  this  he  was  as 
scrupulous  as  Beethoven. 

109 


THE    LURE    OP   MUSIC 

Greatest  of  all  the  waltzes  is  the  one  in  A  flat  major, 
Op.  42.  Again  in  the  glitter  and  whirl  of  the  opening 
is  the  thought  of  a  brilliant  throng.  It  is  a  very  piquant 
passage.  Later  the  waltz  becomes  more  melancholy 
in  mood  and  more  personal  in  sentiment.  Measures  of 
strong  feeling  alternate  with  those  which  convey  the 
swing  of  the  dance.  Now  occurs  a  simple  but  very 
strange  effect.  The  waltz  suddenly  stops,  there  is  a 
phrase,  laconic,  unemotional,  but  arresting  because  of 
its  very  lack  of  expression — a  passage  of  six  notes, 
played  "in  octave"  without  harmony  to  support 
the  theme,  which  appears  for  a  moment  like  a  ghost 
in  the  midst  of  the  festivity.  Indeed,  this  curious 
moment,  no  sooner  come  than  it  is  gone,  has  always 
reminded  the  writer  of  the  fantastical  tale  of  Edgar 
Allan  Poe,  "The  Mask  of  the  Red  Death,"  in  which, 
at  midnight,  the  Red  Death  suddenly  confronts  a  mot- 
ley gathering  of  revelers,  who  flee  from  his  presence  in 
dismay;  and  so,  in  this  waltz,  the  effect  just  referred  to 
is  followed  by  a  wild  conclusion  in  which  the  music 
crashes  recklessly  to  its  end. 

Waltz  in  A  Flat,  Op.  42 

Played  by  Leopold  Godowsky  Columbia  Record  A  5791 

Played  by  Percy  Grainger  Columbia  Record  A  6027 

The  poetic  style  of  Chopin  is  most  gracefully  dis- 
played in  these  waltzes,  and  in  the  nocturnes,  which 
express  the  dreamy  side  of  his  genius.  The  nocturne  in 
E  flat  is  in  the  manner  of  a  serenade,  a  simple  melody, 
ornamented  profusely  with  varieties  of  delicate  ara- 
besques which  are  woven  about  the  principal  theme. 
Nothing  is  more  indicative  of  the  manner  in  which 
Chopin  turned  everything  that  he  touched  to  gold  than 
a  consideration  of  these  musical  ornamentations  which 
have  a  refinement,  an  originality,  a  poetry,  that  no 

other  composer  achieved  in  the  same  way.     Further- 
no 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

more,  this  melodic  style  of  Chopin's,  this  manner  of 
singing  on  the  piano  as  though  some  brilliant  coloratura 
soprano  with  the  soul  of  a  poet  were  improvising,  as  no 
human  throat  ever  could  improvise,  was  undoubtedly 
derived  from  the  music  of  the  old  Italian  school.  No 
wonder  that  Chopin  so  loved  the  music  of  Bellini. 

Nocturne  in  E  Flat 

Played  by  Kathleen  Parlow,  violinist 

Columbia  Record  A  5431 

A  Chopin  nocturne  which  is  peculiarly  well  adapted 
for  performance  on  the  violin — indeed,  one  of  the  very 
few  compositions  of  Chopin  which  sound  well  on  any 
instrument  other  than  the  piano — is  the  nocturne  in  E 
minor,  published  after  his  death,  and  one  of  the  most 
poetic  of  all  his  works  in  this  form. 

Nocturne  in  E  Minor 
Played  by  Eddy   Brown 
Columbia  Record  A  5810 

Chopin,  more  particularly  when  he  played  the  noc- 
turnes, was  what  some  robust  souls  would  call  a  "deli- 
cate ' '  performer.  He  persuaded  rather  than  commanded 
the  instrument.  He  drew  from  it  secrets  which  no  one 
else  had  realized  it  possessed.  His  system  of  fingering 
was  so  original  that,  like  the  majority  of  his  innova- 
tions, it  greatly  annoyed  his  contemporaries.  Without 
this  fingering  the  performance  of  a  piece  such  as  the 
exquisite  "Berceuse"  (cradle-song)  would  be  an  im- 
possibility. The  "Berceuse"  is  the  treatment  by  an  in- 
spired master  of  a  very  simple  melody  of  a  few  notes, 
accompanied  by  a  bass  which  is  practically  unchanging 
throughout  the  entire  piece.  Over  the  gentle  rocking 
motion  of  this  bass  is  woven  a  series  of  variations  of 
extraordinary  originality  and  charm,  until  the  theme 

is  buried,  as  it  were,  under  beautiful  tonal  ornamenta- 

111 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

tion.     Slower   and   slower   rocks   the   cradle,    and   the 
child  sleeps. 

"  Berceuse  ' ' 

Played  by  Josef  Hofmann 
Columbia  Record  A  6078 

Let  no  one  think,  however,  because  Chopin  lacked 
physical  strength,  and  explored  confidently  the  realms 
that  lie  on  the  borderland  of  the  human  consciousness, 
that  he  was  incapable  of  dramatic  intensity  and  epic 
greatness  of  utterance.  The  body  was  weak,  but  the 
spirit  was  strong,  and  the  composer  dipped  his  pen  in 
his  heart's  blood.  So  it  was  when  Chopin,  who  in  1831 
settled  in  Paris,  received  the  news  of  Poland's  downfall 
at  the  hands  of  treacherous  foes.  The  stricken  man 
vacillated  miserably  between  the  impulse  to  take  a 
musket  and  the  consciousness  of  his  physical  inability 
for  warfare.  The  time  for  action  soon  passed.  Poland 
was  ruined;  her  poet  and  prophet  was  saved.  In  the 
polonaises,  the  great  B  minor  sonata,  and  kindred 
compositions,  he  chanted  her  fame. 

The  A  major,  or  "Military  Polonaise,"  is  a  picture 
of  the  pomp  and  panoply,  the  gallantry  and  heroism  of 
a  chivalrous  people  going  forth  to  war. 

A  Major  Polonaise 

Played  by  Josef  Hofmann  Columbia  Record  A  5419 

Played  by  Philharmonic  Orchestra  of  N.  Y.      Columbia  Record  A  6171 

On  a  grander  scale  is  the  polonaise  in  A  flat  major. 
This  is  in  itself  a  complete  drama  of  war.  It  opens 
with  crashing  chords  and  defiant  challenges,  after  which 
the  polonaise  proper  enters  with  a  lordly  swing.  The 
middle  portion  is  a  moment  in  which  Chopin  draws  him- 
self up  to  his  full  height  as  a  patriot,  where,  inspired,  he 
smites  the  lyre  like  a  bard  of  old  chanting  the  glories 
of  his  native  land.  Six  mighty  chords,  the  invocation 
of  the  heroic  past,  and  the  tale  begins.  The  left  hand, 

112 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

playing  octaves,  suggests  the  tread  of  armed  legions 
springing  from  the  earth  at  Poland's  call.  This  effect 
is  repeated  and  is  followed  by  a  passage  in  which  some 
have  found  a  mood  of  indecision,  hesitation.  If  this  is 
so,  it  quickly  passes.  Little  by  little,  the  rhythm  of  the 
polonaise  gathers  force  and  fury,  and  the  work  comes  to 
an  end  in  a  mood  of  passionate  defiance.  It  is  said 
that  Chopin,  composing  this  heroic  music,  was  terrified 
by  the  vision  of  a  procession  of  knights  and  warriors 
advancing  upon  him. 

Polonaise  in  A  Flat  Major 
Played  by  Percy  Grainger 
Columbia  Record  A  6027 

It  is  from  the  testimony  of  his  friends  and  com- 
mentators rather  than  from  the  composer  that  we  know 
what  he  intended  to  say  when  he  wrote  the  B  flat 
minor  sonata,  which  contains  the  great  "Funeral 
March."  This  sonata  is  really  an  elegy  on  Poland's 
downfall  at  the  hands  of  her  enemies.  The  "Funeral 
March"  needs  no  description.  It  has  been  heard  at 
a  thousand  ceremonies  for  the  dead,  on  a  thousand 
occasions  when  the  fate  not  only  of  men,  but  of  nations, 
hung  in  the  balance. 

"  Funeral  March  "  from  B  Flat  Minor  Sonata 
Played  by  Prince's  Band 
Columbia  Record  A  5150 

In  1836  Chopin  was  introduced  to  the  novelist  George 
Sand — some  say,  by  Liszt.  She  was  a  theorist  before 
her  time,  an  extravagant  and  romantic  writer  who  rode 
horseback  astride,  at  times  wore  trousers,  and  even 
smoked  cigars,  which  used  to  disgust  Chopin  to  the 
bottom  of  his  soul.  She  was  not  accounted  an  excep- 
tionally beautiful  woman,  but  she  had  an  arresting  per- 
sonality and  almost  masculine  assertiveness.  At  her 

113 


house  were  such  men  as  the  poet  De  Musset,  one  of  her 
many  admirers,  the  artist  Delacroix,  the  poet  Heine, 
Balzac,  Gautier,  the  Goncourt  brothers,  the  great  Liszt, 
and  other  lesser  figures  of  a  feverish  artistic  epoch. 
George  Sand,  the  indefatigable,  often  wrote  her  affairs 
into  her  novels.  Chopin  was  fascinated.  There  were 
times  when  he  turned  away  in  despair;  but  back  he 
came.  In  the  summer  of  1838  he  was  ill,  and  George 
Sand,  who  was  going  with  her  family  to  the  island  of 
Majorca,  suggested  that  Chopin  accompany  them.  He 
knew  a  few  moments  of  happiness  on  an  island  that 
was  full  of  flowers,  under  a  blue  sky,  with  a  thermometer 
at  74.  Unfortunately,  the  thermometer  changed.  When 
the  skies  grew  gray,  and  the  temperature  was  36,  and 
the  wind  howled  at  night  in  a  dismal  and  terrifying 
manner,  and  the  plaster  gave  way  in  the  walls,  it  was 
Chopin  who  shivered  and  complained,  and  George  Sand 
and  her  son  who  built  the  fires,  which  smoked. 

Chopin's  cough  troubled  him  and  he  again  saw 
strange  visions.  In  this  place  he  wrote  some  of  his 
most  dramatic  and  imaginative  compositions.  Among 
them  were  the  greater  number  of  the  short  pieces  which 
he  called  "preludes."  George  Sand  said  that  in  these 
pieces  Chopin  compressed  into  a  page  more  feeling  than 
many  a  composer  succeeded  in  putting  into  an  act  of 
an  opera.  One  can  imagine  what  one  likes  as  the  pre- 
ludes are  being  played.  The  one  in  A  flat  is  idyllic,  a 
dream-picture  of  a  far-off,  wondrous  land.  It  might  be 
a  memory  of  Majorca  with  its  glowing  skies  and  gor- 
geous flowers.  At  the  last  a  deep  bass  tone  reverberates 
through  upper  harmonies  that  seem  suspended  in  mid- 
air. Perhaps  Chopin,  contemplating  a  peaceful  scene, 
heard  the  ringing  of  the  bell  of  a  nearby  convent. 

Prelude  in  A  Flat 

Played  by  Percy  Grainger 

Columbia  Record  A  6060 

114 


THE   LURE   OF   MUSIC 

The  scherzi  are  among  the  most  powerful  and  fan- 
tastic of  Chopin's  compositions.  The  scherzo  in  B  flat 
minor  is  one  of  the  most  frequently — one  might  say  too 
frequently — played  of  the  four  pieces  in  this  form,  yet 
it  seems  strangely  misunderstood  by  audiences  and  even 
by  many  concert  pianists;  for  it  is  anything  but  a  gay 
and  brilliant  concert  piece,  as  many  performers  seem 
to  think.  The  music  is  possessed  of  a  restless,  driving 
energy,  an  inner  demon  of  discontent,  which  will  not 
allow  it  to  rest.  The  scherzo  in  B  minor  alternates  pages 
of  lashing  fury  with  a  trio  of  twilight  beauty.  The 
scherzo  in  C  sharp  minor  contrasts  driving,  whirling 
octaves  with  a  choral  of  sonorous  grandeur,  which,  at 
last,  becomes  the  war  chant  of  a  nation.  The  scherzo 
in  E  major  is  as  a  troubled  memory  of  the  homeland. 

Much  more  could  be  said  of  them  and  also  of  the 
extraordinary  mazurkas.  In  these  mazurkas,  all  based, 
as  the  polonaises  are  based,  on  national  dance  rhythms, 
the  individual  and  transforming  genius  of  Chopin  rises 
like  a  flower  from  its  native  soil.  And  he  became 
constantly  greater,  to  the  day  of  his  untimely  tak- 
ing off. 

The  concluding  years  of  his  life  were  not  happy.  They 
were  marked  by  increasing  artistic  mastery  and  increas- 
ing bitterness  with  life.  The  visit  to  Majorca  with 
Madame  Sand  was  not,  as  we  have  seen,  over-successful. 
Chopin  was  not  the  man  to  exalt  love  in  a  cottage.  If 
he  had  one  supreme  weakness,  it  was  not  his  desire, 
but  his  actual  need  of  luxury.  In  discomfort  he  could 
not  exist,  much  less  compose.  Both  he  and  George 
Sand  were  happier  when  they  found  themselves  back  in 
Paris.  Relations  became  strained  between  the  two;  hi 
1844  there  were  bitter  quarrels;  in  1847  they  parted. 
George  Sand  promptly  "wrote  up"  Chopin  as  the  Prince 
Karol  in  her  novel,  Lucre~ia  Floriani.  She  dissected 
him  as  she  had  previously  dissected  the  disillusioned 

115 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

De  Musset.  Chopin  never  spoke  to  Madame  Sand 
again,  though  they  had  mutually  sworn  that  he  should 
die  only  in  her  arms.  "Dying!  He  was  dying  all  his 
life!"  said  the  impetuous  Hector  Berlioz,  who  could  not 
tolerate  the  melancholy  Chopin. 

In  1848  and  1849  he  visited  England  and  Scotland, 
attended  devotedly  by  an  English  girl  who  had  come 
to  love  him.  A  characteristic  picture  of  him  is  drawn  by 
an  eye-witness,  who  watched  the  little  man  (this  under- 
size  was  his  most  sensitive  point)  as  he  moved  about 
from  group  to  group  of  charming,  chattering  women, 
consulting  occasionally  a  tiny  jeweled  watch  as  ex- 
quisitely fashioned  as  himself. 

He  had  wavy  hair  of  a  chestnut  color,  delicately 
penciled  eyebrows,  a  nose  with  a  distinguished  crook, 
a  sensitive  mouth.  He  was  always  attired  with  scrupu- 
lous respect  to  the  prevailing  mode.  His  hands  and  feet 
were  small  and  perfectly  formed.  He  was  the  incarna- 
tion of  that  which  was  poetical  and  distinguished.  This 
was  Frederic  Francois  Chopin. 

The  following  year  he  died  of  lung  disease.  He  died 
surrounded  by  friends,  pupils,  and  one  or  two  women 
who  loved  him,  among  whom  was  not  George  Sand.  Of 
her  he  complained  to  the  last  hour,  and  so  passed  the 
supreme  poet  of  the  piano. 

Chopin  left  behind  him  a  few  compositions  which  he 
did  not  consider  good  enough  to  publish.  As  a  rule  he 
was  an  excellent  judge  of  his  own  work.  Nevertheless, 
his  "Fantasie-Impromptu,"  a  posthumous  composition, 
has  become  a  favorite  piece  with  the  musical  public. 
It  is  a  striking  example  of  the  poetry  of  Chopin's  piano 
style,  in  which  the  instrument  becomes  a  veritable 
seolian  harp  of  glittering  tones  and  delicate  interweaving 
sonorities.  A  topical  song  writer  has  recently  lined  his 
pockets  by  putting  the  melody  of  the  middle  part  into 
"ragtime"  ryhthm. 

116 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Fantasia-Impromptu 
Played  by  Josef  Hofmann 
Columbia  Record  A  6174 

A  hard  fate  for  Chopin,  for  the  man  who  came  into  the 
world  like  a  fairy  prince — that  is  what  he  was,  a  fairy 
prince  of  a  composer — from  another  sphere,  and  found 
life  a  troubled,  yea,  a  tragic  dream,  and  left  imperishable 
records  of  his  dreams  and  his  sufferings  in  his  poignant, 
supremely  beautiful  music. 


FRANZ    LISZT 

ONCE  in  a  long  while,  and  not  invariably  in  royal 
families,  a  king  is  born.     Franz  Liszt  was  such  a 
king  among  men.  His  career  was  like  the  passage  of 
some  great  flaming  meteor  across  the  heavens.     Every- 
thing was  thrown  at  his  feet.     Not  one  of  the  good 
fairies  was  absent  at  his  cradle.     The  story  of  his  life 
reads  more  like  an  extravagant  romance   than   actual 
fact.     Yet  the  man  did  exist.     Some,  now  living,  remem- 
ber him,  and  they  look  about  them,  dazed,  still  be- 
wildered by  the  passage  of  the  comet. 

Liszt,  happening  to  possess  a  prodigious  capacity  for 
music,  became  one  of  the  most  important  of  modern 
composers,  and  beyond  doubt  the  greatest  pianist  in 
the  history  of  his  art.  But  he  would  have  been  astonish- 
ing in  any  sphere.  When  some  one  asked  him  what  he 
would  have  been  were  he  not  a  musician,  he  replied, 
"The  greatest  diplomat  in  Europe."  As  it  was,  he 
created  a  new  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  piano.  Few 
dreamed  before  he  appeared  that  the  cold-looking  instru- 
ment of  keys  and  wires  could  pour  forth  such  floods  of 
color  and  beauty,  such  thunder  and  lightning,  such 
dramatic  proclamation  or  seductive  song.  Liszt  had 
no  rivals.  Others  were  pianists.  He  was  a  magician — 
a  god  who  had  given  the  machine  capacities  it  had  not 
previously  possessed,  a  Piper  of  Hamelin  who  drew  the 
whole  wondering  world  after  his  footsteps! 

Because  the  man  and  his  music  were  one,  it  was  dif- 
ficult to  separate  them.  Liszt  played  as  he  looked,  and 
looked  as  he  played.  He  bore  himself  with  the  pride 

118 


LISZT.    1811-1886 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

and  the  grace  of  a  monarch.  His  face  changed  at  the 
piano — sometimes  noble  and  tender,  sometimes  stormy 
and  defiant,  sometimes  sardonic,  Mephistophelian,  and 
always,  underlying  everything,  an  expression  of  infinite 
knowledge  and  power.  All  adored  him.  It  is  a  fact 
that  men  followed  him  in  the  streets  and  treasured 
his  cigar  stubs,  and  as  for  the  gentler  sex — the  com- 
poser Grieg,  after  visiting  Liszt  at  Weimar,  remarked 
that  ladies  eyed  him  as  if  they  would  like  to  eat  the 
last  shred  of  his  abbe's  robe.  For  Liszt  in  later  life 
became  an  abbe.  It  has  often  been  said  that  he  took 
orders  just  in  time  to  balk  the  pursuit  of  the  proud  but 
amorous  Princess  of  Sayn- Wittgenstein.  He  had  no  ob- 
jection to  her  adulation.  He  was  far  from  insensible 
to  feminine  charm,  but  after  one  unhappy  love-affair 
of  his  youth  he  ceased  to  care  for  the  bonds  of  mar- 
riage, and  was  fully  enough  of  a  courtier  to  find  more 
than  one  way  of  saying  "no." 

Liszt  was  born  at  Raiding,  Hungary,  October  22, 
1811.  From  the  beginning  he  showed  phenomenal 
gifts  for  the  piano.  His  teachers  seemed  to  be  merely 
reminding  him  of  what  he  already  knew.  Naturally 
he  was  impatient  of  pedagogic  formulas,  sometimes 
rebellious,  but  quick  to  own  his  fault  and  listen  to 
reason.  So  that  for  once  a  Heaven-sent  genius  was 
thoroughly  schooled!  The  good  Czerny,  of  the  "Finger- 
Dexterity"  known  to  all  perspiring  piano  pupils,  took 
him  in  hand,  and  made  him  play  yards  of  studies.  At 
twelve  he  was  already  famous  in  a  number  of  European 
capitals.  At  this  age  also  he  received  a  consecra- 
tion to  his  art  which  he  never  forgot.  For  the  great 
Beethoven,  sitting  in  an  audience,  came  to  him  after  the 
concert  and  kissed  his  brow.  Liszt  worked  the  harder. 
He  was  now  a  petted  youth  in  Paris.  Favored  by  the 
aristocracy,  he  was  supporting  his  poor  father  and 
mother  with  his  already  considerable  earnings  as  vir- 
10  119 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

tuoso  and  teacher  when  he  had  his  first  sorrow.  He 
fell  in  love  with  a  nobly  born  pupil,  and  she  with  him. 
As  society  was  constituted  in  those  days,  such  an  affair 
could  have  at  best  but  an  unhappy  ending.  The  girl's 
parents  intervened.  The  young  Liszt,  like  many  an- 
other lover  of  those  days,  became  more  and  more  en- 
grossed in  religion.  It  was  a  romantic  period — more  so 
than  any  other  that  modern  society  has  known.  Ro- 
mantic attachments,  monastic  seclusions,  lingering 
deaths  through  disappointed  passion,  defiance  of  rulers, 
dabblings  in  theology — all  this  was  in  the  air.  How 
seriously  Liszt  took  his  repulse  in  love  we  shall  never 
know.  He  was  a  typical  young  man  of  the  thirties,  a 
little  theatrical,  as  all  the  youth  of  that  period,  but 
deeply  in  earnest  as  well.  But  we  do  know  that  from 
that  time  on  Liszt  seldom,  if  ever,  considered  matrimony 
seriously,  and  that,  with  all  his  generosity  and  idealism, 
he  was  disposed  during  the  remainder  of  his  life  to  be  a 
trifle  cynical  about  human  relationships. 

In  1835  Liszt  was  the  most  formidable  virtuoso  in 
the  world.  He  had  successfully  put  all  of  his  rivals, 
among  them  the  really  admirable  artist  of  the  old 
school,  Thalberg,  behind  him.  But  now  came  on  the 
stage  one  of  the  most  picturesque  and  romantic  per- 
sonalities of  the  early  nineteenth  century,  the  violinist, 
Paganini.  He  had  already  done  for  the  violin  what 
Liszt  was  about  to  do  for  the  piano:  invented  a  new 
and  special  technic  for  the  instrument  which  revealed 
all  kinds  of  unheard-of  possibilities  of  its  mechanism. 
Paganini,  tall,  gaunt,  pale,  satanic,  if  a  man  ever  was, 
in  his  appearance,  took  all  Europe  by  storm.  Liszt, 
fired  by  this  new  art,  which  in  many  respects  reflected 
his  own  temperament,  resolved  to  emulate  it.  He 
locked  himself  in  his  studio  and  emerged  the  Paganini 
of  his  instrument! 

As  if  to  beard  Paganini  himself  in  his  den,  Liszt  took 

120 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

some  of  the  master-violinist's  own  compositions  and 
bedeviled  them  in  ways  bewildering  and  well-nigh  in- 
surmountable to  other  pianists  of  the  day.  Such  a  com- 
position is  the  study  based  on  Paganini's  "Campanella," 
a  work  in  which  Paganini  had  intended  to  suggest  the 
ringing  of  bells.  Liszt  carried  out  the  effect  much  farther 
in  one  of  his  most  celebrated  pieces  for  the  piano. 

"  Campanella  "  Etude 

Played  by  Leopold  Godowsky 

Columbia  Record  A  5484 

Liszt's  technic  was  the  result,  not  only  of  his  fingers, 
but  his  imagination.  Color  and  fantasy  characterized 
everything  that  he  did.  He  made  arrangements  of  the 
music  of  other  composers,  and  as  a  rule  glorified  instead 
of  cheapening  it  in  the  process.  A  work  which  displays 
very  characteristically  Liszt's  originality  and  brilliancy  in 
this  field  is  the  fantasy  on  airs  from  Verdi's  "Rigoletto." 

"  Rigoletto  "  Paraphrase 

Played  by  Leopold  Godowsky 

Columbia  Record  A  5896 

Other  pianists  developed  a  style  associated  with 
their  "school"  or  peculiar  only  to  themselves.  Liszt 
was  a  master  of  all  styles.  The  story  is  told  of  an 
evening  at  George  Sand's,  when  Chopin  sat  at  the 
piano,  and  the  lights  were  turned  out.  Chopin,  as  every 
one  believed,  kept  on  playing,  but  when  lights  were 
brought  it  was  seen  that  Liszt  had  taken  his  place. 
Liszt  bowed.  "Liszt,"  he  said,  "can  imitate  Chopin,  but 
can  Chopin  imitate  Liszt?" 

Liszt  has  more  than  once  been  accused  of  a  certain 
theatricalism.  Doubtless  there  was  a  trace  of  this  in 
his  character.  It  shows  here  and  there  in  his  art  as 
well  as  his  life;  yet  at  heart  he  was  noble,  sincere,  and 
supremely  gifted  man. 

121 


It  was  in  1833  that  Liszt  met  the  Countess  d'Agoult. 
She  was  a  woman  of  uncommon  intellect  and  personality, 
one  to  understand  such  a  man  as  Liszt,  one  to  rebel 
against  conventions  when  her  affections  were  involved, 
and  set  the  world  at  naught  in  her  rebellion.  There  was 
a  long  and  devoted  intimacy  between  the  two.  They 
traveled  over  much  of  Europe  together.  The  man, 
who  was  never  known  to  unburden  himself  of  his  own 
sorrow,  while  always  helping  and  consoling  those  who 
laid  their  troubles  on  his  broad  shoulders;  the  man 
who  rescued  Richard  Wagner  and  scores  of  others  from 
absolute  penury,  and  nobly  gave  of  his  best  in  the  cause 
of  their  immortal  creations,  as  did  Liszt — this  man 
found  a  companion  in  whom  he  could,  in  whom  he  did, 
confide. 

Was  it  in  memory  of  the  D'Agoult  or  some  other  epi- 
sode that  Liszt  wrote  the  sentimental  piano  pieces,  the 
"Liebestraume,"  of  which  the  one  in  A  flat  is  the  most 
famous?  She  was  but  one  of  the  hundred  eager  women 
who  pursued  that  amiable  and  fascinating  man  over  hill 
and  dale.  Liszt  supplied  pianists  with  a  very  popular 
composition  which  begins  dreamily,  mounts  to  a  pas- 
sionate climax,  and  after  a  brilliant  display  passage 
subsides  with  peaceful  echoes  of  the  initial  song. 

"  Liebestraum  "  ("  Dream  of  Love  ") 
Played  by  Xaver  Scharwenka  Columbia  Record  A  5467 

To  understand  fully  the  complex  character  of  this 
man  and  his  art  we  must  remember  that  he  was  a 
Hungarian  with  the  passionate  and  electrical  tempera- 
ment of  his  countrymen.  Liszt  grew  up  with  the  sound 
of  the  music  of  the  Hungarian  gipsies  in  his  ears.  The 
excitement  of  the  national  dances  was  in  his  veins,  also 
the  languor,  the  rhythmic  capriciousness,  the  pulsing  fire 

of  his  race.     It  is  generally  agreed  that  in  his  com- 

122 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

positions  for  the  piano  he  seldom  surpassed  the  original- 
ity and  fascination  of  the  Hungarian  rhapsodies.  Of 
these  there  are  in  all  fourteen. 

The  second  Hungarian  Rhapsody  is  perhaps  the  most 
famous  of  the  entire  group  •,  a  gorgeous  piece,  with  a 
proud,  somber  introduction,  then  flourishes  and  cadenzas 
such  as  a  wandering  gipsy  might  make  with  his  bow, 
then  a  gradual  quickening  of  the  pace,  sudden,  capricious 
alternations  of  tenderness  and  frenzy,  and  an  ending 
which  is  one  mad  whirl  of  tone. 

Second  Hungarian  Rhapsody 

Played  by  Percy  Grainger  (pianist)  Columbia  Record  A  6000 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra  Columbia  Record  A  5230 

Another  of  the  rhapsodies  which  seems  never  to  pall 
is  the  Twelfth.  It  has  a  leading  motive  of  great,  crashing 
chords.  They  are  part  of  the  customary  slow  intro- 
duction which  is  found  in  so  many  of  these  composi- 
tions, and  has  its  analogy  in  the  Hungarian  folk-dances 
themselves.  Then  come  typical  dance  tunes,  faster 
and  faster,  now  and  again  interrupted  by  a  return  of 
the  reverberating  chords  of  the  opening. 

Hungarian  Rhapsody  No.  12 
Played  by  Percy  Grainger 
Columbia  Record  A  6161 

A  work  of  the  same  description  as  the  foregoing  piece, 
but  even  more  effective  because  it  combines  the  resources 
of  the  orchestra  with  those  of  the  piano,  is  the  Hungarian 
Fantasy  for  piano  solo  and  orchestra.  One  of  the  very 
few  records  successfully  made  of  this  style  of  composition 
displays  not  only  the  breath-taking  virtuosity  of  the 
pianist,  but  also  the  wonderful  way  in  which  Liszt  could 
combine  his  instruments.  A  very  old,  ancestral  Hun- 
garian melody,  a  noble,  melancholy  call,  resounds  from 
the  brass  instruments.  The  piano  ornaments  this  strain 

123 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

with  all  kinds  of  florid  passage-work.  Effects  of  strange 
pulsatile  instruments  are  suggested  in  the  quicker  dance 
rhythms  that  follow.  The  main  motive  returns — the  old 
Hungarian  song — while  the  pianist  sweeps  wildly  the 
entire  range  of  the  keyboard.  Thereafter  it  is  give  and 
take  between  soloist  and  orchestra,  that  vie  with  each 
other  in  speed,  in  power,  and  quickly  changing  rhythms. 
The  rhapsodies  wrere  only  one  of  the  offenses  the  great 
Liszt  committed  against  the  musical  pedants  of  his  and 
of  later  days.  These  amazing  pieces  still  disturb  the 
purists,  still  seem  to  them  "exaggerated"  in  their  color 
and  pomp,  in  the  dreamy,  caressing  quality  of  the  melo- 
dies and  the  frenzy  of  the  finales.  But  the  great  public 
has  rightly  taken  them  to  heart. 

Hungarian  Fantasy  (with  Orchestra) 
Played  by  Percy  Grainger 
Columbia  Record  A  6115 

Great  though  Liszt  was  as  a  pianist,  he  was  far  from 
content  with  the  career  of  a  public  performer,  however 
alluring  its  rewards.  He  was  the  composer  of  music 
which  looked  far  toward  the  future,  and  anticipated 
some  of  the  most  modern  compositions  of  to-day.  His 
home  at  Weimar  became  the  Mecca  of  all  the  musicians 
of  the  world.  He  knew  them  all,  understood  them  all, 
and  helped  them  all.  Grieg,  Berlioz,  Saint-Saens, 
Smetana,  Cesar  Franck — the  list  is  endless  in  the  num- 
ber and  importance  of  the  men  whom  he  inspired.  He 
died  at  Bayreuth,  July  31,  1886.  It  was  a  wonderful 
thing  to  have  been  such  a  musician.  It  was  not  less 
wonderful  to  have  been  so  loved  as  a  man. 


HECTOR  BERLIOZ 

/CERTAIN  names  shine  out  in  an  age,  but  they 
y^y  are  seldom  the  names  that  were  greeted  most 
enthusiastically  by  contemporary  judgment.  The 
man  who  dares  to  think  too  far  in  advance  of  his  period 
pays  dearly  for  it,  and  comparatively  seldom  lives  to 
reap  his  reward.  This  was  the  fate  of  the  founder  of 
French  instrumental  composition,  Hector  Berlioz.  He 
was  one  of  the  most  original  composers  who  ever  lived. 
No  creative  artist  owed  less  to  teachers,  precepts,  or 
traditions.  His  compositions  grow  greater  with  every 
year  that  passes.  An  understanding  of  the  music  of 
to-day  is  impossible  without  him.  What  do  not  the 
young  Russians,  many  of  the  modern  Frenchmen,  in- 
deed all  great  composers  of  to-day  owe  to  this  daring 
pioneer  of  modern  music? 

Berlioz  was  one  of  the  most  splendid  and  heroic  figures 
of  the  romantic  period  following  the  Napoleonic  wars 
in  France,  when  Paris  was  a  hotbed  of  genius,  when 
many  of  the  glorious  artists  of  the  day  died  young, 
burned  out,  as  it  were,  by  the  intensity  of  their  own 
flame.  Tall,  of  a  spare  but  powerful  frame,  red-haired, 
eagle-eyed,  defiant  of  circumstances,  contemptuous  of  the 
commonplace,  he  was  born  for  conflict.  Being  as  fear- 
less in  the  expression  of  his  opinions  as  he  was  individual 
in  his  ideas,  he  made  enemies  by  the  score  and  created 
a  new  epoch  in  French  music. 

Berlioz's  father,  a  physician  of  C6te-Saint-Andr£,  a 
small  town  located  about  halfway  between  Lyons  and 
Grenoble,  wished  his  son  also  to  study  medicine.  Hector, 

125 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

born  December  11,  1803,  grew  up  with  little  or  no  knowl- 
edge of  musical  composition,  although  he  learned  to  sing 
anything  at  sight  and  to  play  the  flageolet  and  guitar. 

He  wandered  the  hills  of  Cote-Saint-Andre,  succeeded 
poorly  in  his  routine  studies,  and  devoured  certain 
poems  and  books  of  travel  which  appealed  to  his  ad- 
venturous spirit.  His  father  complained  that  his  son 
*'knew  every  island  in  the  South  Sea,  but  could  not  tell 
how  many  departments  there  were  in  France."  In 
place  of  lessons  in  harmony,  Hector  read  Virgil,  and  burst 
into  tears  at  the  sublime  pathos  of  a  passage .  of  the 
"^Eneid."  Instead  of  writing  counterpoint  he  fell  in- 
stantly and  miserably  in  love,  at  the  age  of  twelve 
years,  with  Estelle  Fournier,  an  exquisitely  beautiful 
girl  of  eighteen,  whose  eyes  and  pink  slippers  were  ever 
in  his  dreams,  and  who,  through  all  his  tempestuous 
career,  his  mad  love-affairs,  his  triumphs  and  disasters, 
remained  the  serene  and  glorious  star  of  his  soul.  Even 
Beatrice  was  doubtless  far  more  commonplace  than 
Dante  imagined  her.  Estelle,  as  she  showed  later,  had 
less  sensibility  and  quixotic  great-heartedness  than  her 
adorer.  But  she  ennobled  him.  Glorifying  her,  he 
glorified  himself — and  wrote  great  music.  Singularly 
enough,  it  was  Estelle  who  inspired  the  most  beautiful 
melody  in  that  astounding  symphony,  the  "Symphonic 
Fantastique,"  which  Berlioz  wrote  to  gain  the  attention 
and  the  favor  of  another  woman! 

Berlioz,  sincerely  desirous  of  obeying  his  father's 
wishes,  went  to  Paris  in  1822,  when  he  was  eighteen 
years  old,  and  undertook  a  medical  course.  After  a 
certain  experience  in  the  dissecting-rooms,  he  jumped 
through  the  window  and  wrote  his  father  that  he  in- 
tended to  become  a  musician.  He  devoured  the  musi- 
cal scores  of  the  free  library  of  the  Conservatoire,  con- 
trived to  get  himself  a  harmony-teacher,  and  put  some 
early  and  puerile  compositions  before  the  public.  He 

126 


BERLIOZ. 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

had  boundless  energy  and  a  will  that  was  indomitable. 
He  tried  three  times  to  gain  the  Prix  de  Rome.  A 
fourth  effort,  "Sardanapale,"  composed  while  the  guns 
of  the  July  Revolution  were  reverberating  through  the 
streets  of  Paris,  won  him  the  coveted  reward.  Char- 
acteristically, he  did  not  like  Rome  very  much  when 
he  got  there — at  least,  he  did  not  like  the  rather  aca- 
demic atmosphere  of  the  Institute.  But  who  could  re- 
sist Italy!  Above  all,  how  could  so  romantic  and  im- 
pressionable a  youth  as  Berlioz  withstand  her  charm? 

Italy  was  the  cause  of  one  of  the  gayest  and  most 
brilliant  of  all  orchestral  overtures,  the  "Carnaval 
Romain"  ("Roman  Carnival").  This  is  a  musical  pict- 
ure of  Rome  in  carnival  time.  Only  Berlioz  could  have 
written  of  this  scene  with  such  mad  vigor,  such  electri- 
cal esprit.  Like  all  other  great  composers,  his  con- 
temporaries frequently  accused  him  of  having  no  melody. 
But  listen  to  the  song  of  the  slow  introduction,  played 
by  the  English  horn  just  after  the  first  shout  of  joyous 
abandon  with  which  the  overture  opens.  Is  not  that 
dreamy  song  the  very  voice  of  the  sunniest  and  most 
beautiful  of  all  lands?  After  it  has  been  sung,  first  by 
the  English  horn,  and  then  by  stringed  instruments,  the 
orchestra  rushes  into  the  Salterello,  a  mad  dance.  At 
the  end,  through  the  wild  tumult  of  the  orchestra,  there 
sounds  again  the  beautiful  melody  of  the  introduction. 
In  this  piece  all  s  life  and  gaiety.  A  hundred  strokes  of 
genius  have  flashed  by  before  the  last  chord  sounds. 
Such  was  Berlioz,  glorious  artist,  in  his  youth! 

"  Carnaval  Romain  "  ("  Roman  Carnival  ") 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6080 

Berlioz  saw  Miss  Smithson,  an  Irish  actress,  in 
Shakespearean  drama.  It  was  his  first  acquaintance  with 
Shakespeare,  whose  fascination,  combined  with  that  of 

127 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Miss  Smithson,  was  too  much  for  him.  After  the 
most  fantastic  courtship,  and  following  the  performance 
of  the  "  Symphonic  Fantastique"  in  her  honor  (it  was 
said  that  Berlioz  sat  in  the  orchestra  playing  the  kettle- 
drums, and  that  every  time  he  caught  the  eye  of  Miss 
Smithson  he  gave  a  furious  roll  on  the  instruments), 
Berlioz  married  the  actress  and  they  were  thoroughly 
unhappy.  Accusations,  denials,  reconciliations — at  last 
the  wife  an  invalid,  and  the  poor  composer  forced  to 
make  money  by  any  and  all  means  to  care  for  her.  A 
son,  Louis,  born  of  this  union,  lived  to  be  the  affection 
and  the  despair  of  his  father's  old  age.  Occasionally  a 
miracle  occurred  which  kept  the  family  from  starving, 
as  when  the  violinist  Paganini,  hearing  Berlioz's  "Childe 
Harold"  symphony,  appeared  after  the  performance, 
dumb  with  a  cold,  making  frantic  signs  of  approval  and 
the  next  day  sent  Berlioz  a  check  for  twenty  thousand 
francs.  The  gift  was  not  due  to  the  generosity  of  Paga- 
nini, a  notorious  miser,  but  was  from  another  man,  who 
wished  to  remain  unknown. 

In  1845  the  composer  left  his  wife  in  tears  and  in 
bitterness  to  undertake  an  orchestral  tour  in  Hungary 
which  would  give  him  funds  to  keep  the  invalid  from 
privation.  It  was  at  this  time,  under  the  most  dis- 
tracting conditions,  that  he  composed  his  "Faust,"  a 
dramatic  cantata  for  chorus,  orchestra,  and  solo  voices. 
In  trains,  in  steamboats,  on  the  backs  of  bills  in  restau- 
rants, in  a  shop  lighted  by  a  single  candle,  on  a  night  in 
Budapest,  in  a  hundred  other  like  situations,  he  wrote 
this  music. 

At  Budapest  it  was  proposed  that  Berlioz  write  a 
march  on  a  Hungarian  tune.  He  chose  one  from  an 
old  album  of  national  airs.  He  was  apprehensive,  and 
so  were  his  friends,  about  the  performance,  because  this 
was  an  air  very  dear  to  the  Hungarians,  and  if  the  com- 
poser's treatment  of  it  did  not  suit  them  the  audience 

128 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

would  be  quite  capable  of  making  trouble.  The  day 
of  the  performance  came  on  and  Berlioz  had  all  he 
could  do  to  conceal  his  nervousness  as  he  ascended  the 
conductor's  stand.  The  march  commenced  with  utter 
silence  in  the  audience.  The  Hungarians  were  probably 
surprised,  for  their  custom  was  to  begin  a  march  with 
a  bang  and  a  blare,  whereas  Berlioz's  version  commenced 
softly  and  gradually  swelled  to  a  cataclysm  of  fury. 
There  was  no  sign  of  approval  until  that  dramatic  pass- 
age in  which  the  orchestra,  suddenly  hushed,  begins  a 
long  "crescendo,"  while  under  the  tremolo  of  the  violins 
the  beating  of  the  bass  drums  is  heard,  like  the  booming 
of  distant  cannon.  The  audience  went  mad.  "A 
strange,  restless  movement  was  perceptible  among 
them,"  says  Berlioz  in  his  memoirs,  and  when  the  or- 
chestra let  loose  its  fury  "they  could  contain  themselves 
no  longer.  Their  overcharged  souls  burst  with  a  tre- 
mendous explosion  of  feeling  that  raised  my  hair  with 
terror."  This  is  indeed  one  of  the  most  stirring  of 
marches,  with  its  irresistible  rhythms,  its  constantly 
accumulating  excitement,  its  thrill  and  fury  of  battle. 

Hungarian  March  from  "  Damnation  of  Faust  " 

New  York  Philharmonic  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6171 

Berlioz  did  not  originally  think  of  this  march  as  a 
part  of  "Faust."  It  was  an  independent  effort,  a  piece 
inspired  by  an  occasion.  But  he  found  the  march  so 
good  that  he  transported  his  "Faust"  to  a  plain  in 
Hungary,  in  order  that  a  Hungarian  regiment  be  sup- 
posed to  march  by  in  the  distance,  playing  the  "Rakoczy 
March"!  A  German  critic  found  fault  with  this  high- 
handed proceeding,  to  which  Berlioz  replied  that  he 
would  have  transported  "Faust"  to  any  other  part  of 
the  world  if  it  would  have  given  him  the  opportunity 
to  introduce  so  good  a  march.  So  would  we. 

129 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

By  the  time  "Faust"  was  completed  Berlioz's  fame 
had  been  well  established.  In  addition  to  other  methods 
of  making  a  living,  he  had  become  a  music  critic  and 
had  contributed  some  of  the  most  witty  and  penetrating 
musical  criticisms  ever  written  to  the  columns  of  the 
Journal  des  Debats  and  other  papers.  He  flayed  merci- 
lessly the  money-changers  in  the  temple  of  art.  He 
knew  whereof  he  spoke,  and  his  wit  felled  like  a  mace. 
Thus  his  remark  at  a  concert,  when  he  rose  from  his 
seat  and,  making  a  gesture  as  of  one  who  bids  at  auction, 
cried,  "Twenty  francs,  forty  francs,  one  hundred  francs, 
for  an  idea!" 

Fascinating  beyond  description  are  his  feuilletons  and 
his  "memoirs,"  now  translated  and  published,  with 
many  of  his  letters,  in  Everyman's  Library.  But  his 
most  important  literary  creation,  musically  speaking, 
is  the  great  Treatise  of  Instrumentation,  which  is  not 
merely  a  treatise,  but  a  poem  about  the  orchestra,  at 
once  so  imaginative,  so  prophetic,  so  scientific  in  its 
outlining  of  modern  orchestral  principles,  that  it  remains 
to-day  the  backbone  of  orchestral  theory. 

Berlioz's  first  wife  died  in  1854.  A  second  marriage, 
with  a  Mme.  Marie  Recio,  with  whom  he  was  no  hap- 
pier, and  who  was  far  less  worthy  of  him  than  Henriette, 
took  place  some  months  later.  She  lived  but  a  short 
time.  Berlioz  was  working  at  his  last  opera,  "The 
Trojans."  He  was  in  ill  health,  a  daily  sufferer,  and 
embittered  by  continual  misfortune.  Then  he  again 
met  Estelle.  Most  pathetic  of  all  the  incidents  of  his 
late  days,  it  often  seems,  was  the  letter  he  wrote  her 
after  their  meeting.  Never,  O  hero  and  madman,  were 
you  nobler,  more  credulous,  more  divinely  a  child,  than 
in  that  letter,  which  might  have  been  the  impassioned 
avowal — indeed,  it  was  the  impassioned  avowal — of  the 
boy  of  twelve  instead  of  the  disillusioned  man  of  sixty- 
one.  Berlioz,  alone,  heart-hungry,  implored  Estelle  to 

130 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

let  him  visit  her  often  and  try  to  gain  that  love  which 
was  his  first  and  his  last  passion.  She  sent  him  a  kind 
and  sensible  reply,  which  must  have  wounded  him 
more,  in  its  relentless  logic  and  lack  of  response,  than 
sharp  repulse.  "The  Trojans,"  produced  in  1863,  failed, 
and  soon  after  came  the  news  of  the  death  of  his  son, 
Louis,  a  sea-captain,  in  a  foreign  port.  Berlioz  strug- 
gled on,  the  ghost  of  himself.  But  he  laid  about  him 
lustily,  as  in  the  old  days.  He  had  a  brave  smile,  if 
his  heart  was  dead.  Only  occasionally  did  a  cry  of 
anguish  escape  him,  as  when  he  wrote  a  friend,  "I  am 
past  hope,  past  visions,  past  high  thoughts — I  am  alone; 
my  scorn  for  the  dishonesty  and  imbecility  of  men,  my 
hatred  of  their  insane  malignity,  are  at  their  height; 
and  every  day  I  say  unto  death:  'When  thou  wilt! 
Why  does  he  tarry?' ' 

A  banquet  was  held  at  Grenoble,  in  1869,  at  which 
Berlioz  was  the  honored  guest.  Like  a  tall  pine  riven 
by  the  tempest,  he  came,  erect,  but  shaking,  into  the 
hall.  A  terrific  storm  broke  outside,  the  wind  play- 
ing havoc  with  the  window-curtains  and  the  candles 
on  the  tables,  many  of  which  were  extinguished.  The 
thunder  roared  and  the  lightning  flashed,  as  though 
Nature  had  determined  to  greet  the  old  hero  with  her 
grandest  music.  It  was  the  last  that  all  save  his  most 
intimate  friends  were  to  see  of  Hector  Berlioz.  He  died 
a  few  days  later,  on  the  8th  of  March.  On  his  coffin 
were  flowers  from  a  few  who  still  loved  him;  some 
wreaths  from  Russia,  where  he  was  adored;  from  the 
townspeople  at  Grenoble;  from  the  youths  of  Hun- 
gary, who  had  not  forgotten  the  battle  music  of  the 
"Rakoczy  March." 

"Life:  War"  is  an  inscription  on  an  Egyptian  tomb- 
stone. This  inscription  might  well  have  served  as  the 
epitaph  of  Hector  Berlioz. 

131 


RICHARD  WAGNER 

T  1 1HE  beauty  Richard  Wagner  could  not  find  in  his 
X  life  he  created  for  himself  in  his  art.  There  was 
never  a  man  or  an  artist  like  him.  Erratic, 
imaginative,  idealistic,  of  an  extremely  energetic  and 
impressionable  temperament,  he  dreamed  impossible 
dreams,  and  made  these  dreams  come  true.  He  became 
from  a  starving  conductor  of  an  insignificant  opera 
company  the  most  powerful  figure  in  the  music  of  the 
later  nineteenth  century.  As  a  man  he  was  very  great 
and  very  small.  In  other  words,  very  human.  He  was 
adored,  despised,  and  hated.  Who  shall  judge?  Nature 
gave  Wagner  the  force  and  the  egotism  necessary  to 
impose  on  the  world  ideas  a  century  ahead  of  his  time. 
From  the  struggles,  the  miseries,  the  visions  of  his  rash 
and  headlong  career  came  the  wondrous  "music- 
dramas." 

Wagner  was  born  in  1813,  the  year  of  the  battle  of 
Leipsic.  Napoleon,  hatless,  fled  by  the  house  of  his 
birth.  In  the  same  year  the  man  mentioned  on  the 
register  as  Wagner's  father  died.  He  was  a  police- 
sergeant.  According  to  certain  investigators,  Rich- 
ard's father  was  Ludwig  Geyer,  an  actor,  portrait- 
painter,  and  lover  of  letters,  who  married  the  police- 
man's widow  soon  after  his  death.  What  we  know  is 
that  Geyer  exerted  a  considerable  influence  on  Richard's 
early  development,  if  only  by  bringing  him  into  close 
contact  with  the  theatre.  One  of  Wagner's  earliest 
recollections  was  of  Geyer  as  a  villain  of  melodrama, 
and  in  due  course  Richard  himself  knew  the  ineffable 

132 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

thrill  of  being  sewed  up  in  canvas  wings  and  suspended 
as  an  angel  in  mid-air.  He  took  other  child  parts. 
With  only  one  exception  his  brothers  and  sisters  attached 
themselves  to  the  stage.  Thus  Wagner  grew  up  in  the 
play-house,  which  had  a  very  important  influence  on 
his  art. 

WTagner  as  a  boy  was  a  puzzle  to  himself  and  the 
community.  His  mental  activity  was  without  a  paral- 
lel. At  a  time  in  life  when  the  youth  of  our  land  play 
baseball  he  was  already  dipping  into  Goethe,  Shake- 
speare, and  Greek  tragedy.  But  he  seemed  to  lack 
definite  objective,  and  the  last  thing  of  which  he  was 
suspected  was  talent  for  music.  He  was  an  impossible 
piano  pupil.  He  whacked  out  a  few  cheap  waltzes  and 
one  or  two  overtures  in  a  way  all  his  own,  but  showed  no 
signs  of  the  composer  to  come  until,  as  a  boy  of  fourteen, 
he  began  to  write  a  drama. 

This  was  a  bloody  affair.  All  the  characters  were 
killed  before  the  last  act,  and  it  was  necessary  for  them 
to  reappear  as  ghosts  to  finish  the  play.  There  were 
passages  of  unconscious  humor,  as  when  one  personage 
informs  another  that  if  he  advances  a  step  his  nose  will 
be  ground  to  powder.  Absorbed  in  this  creative  effort, 
Wagner  neglected  to  attend  school.  He  was  madden- 
ingly calm  and  uncommunicative  when  questioned  by  his 
elders.  The  explanation  of  this  came  years  later  jn  his 
autobiography,  and  it  is  significant  of  what  was  happen- 
ing to  him  as  an  artist.  "I  was  still  conscious,"  he  says, 
"of  a  wonderful  secret  solace  in  the  midst  of  the  calamity 
that  had  befallen  me.  I  knew,  what  no  one  else  could 
know — that  my  work  could  only  be  judged  when  set  to 
music  which  I  had  resolved  to  write  for  it,  and  which  I 
intended  to  start  composing  immediately" 

He  could  have  made  no  more  momentous  discovery. 
Then  and  there,  with  that  early  preposterous  attempt 
at  dramatic  writing,  he  took  the  initial  step  which  led 
11  133 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

to  the  "music  of  the  future" — music  indissolubly  wedded 
to  drama,  to  express  in  new  forms  of  power  and  beauty 
the  deepest  emotions  and  the  loftiest  ideals  of  the  race. 

Wagner  arrived  at  years  of  indiscretion.  The  July 
revolution  of  1830  greatly  stirred  the  imagination  of 
German  youth.  He  mingled  uproariously  with  students 
whose  main  occupations  were  drinking  and  dueling. 
Anxious  to  emulate  his  companions,  our  composer  chal- 
lenged five  of  the  boldest  cocks  of  the  walk  to  fight  him. 
Wagner  himself  knew  little  of  swordsmanship  or  the 
punctilio  of  combat,  but  was  preparing  light-heartedly 
for  his  doom,  when  that  Providence  which  protects 
lunatics  stepped  in  and  saved  him.  Opponent  number 
one  was  effectually  disabled  in  a  duel  with  another  man; 
opponents  numbers  two  and  three  fled  from  the  city 
to  escape  their  creditors;  opponent  number  four  was 
killed  in  a,  duel  previously  scheduled,  and  opponent 
number  five  was  detected  in  misdemeanors  and 
rusticated. 

Wagner  became  a  confirmed  gambler.  One  night, 
at  a  low  ebb  of  his  fortunes  and  his  morals,  he  threw  his 
mother's  pension,  of  which  he  was  a  trustee,  on  the 
table.  And  won! 

He  crept  home  in  the  gray  dawn,  regarding  himself 
as  miraculously  saved.  He  turned  to  his  work  in  a  fury 
of  remorse.  In  dreams  the  ghosts  of  Weber  and 
Beethoven  appeared,  urging  him  on. 

He  succeeded  in  getting  some  early  compositions  per- 
formed, in  mastering  odd  musical  jobs  and  trying  his 
hand  at  conducting,  an  art  which  he  was  soon  to  revolu- 
tionize. Finally  he  was  offered  an  opening  as  conductor 
~f  a  little  opera  company  in  Magdeburg.  There  fate  lay 

wait  for  him.     He  was  about  to  decline  the  position, 

.hen  his  eye  fell  on  Miss  Minna  Planer,  a  comely  young 

actress  of  the  organization,  and  he  was  done  for.     He 

signed  his  contract  almost  on  the  spot.    He  labored  gigan- 

134 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

tically  in  the  face  of  every  discouragement,  and  wooed 
Minna.  After  months  of  poverty  and  love  and  jealousy 
and  misgivings  they  married — to  become  acquainted  later. 

\Vagner  feel  deeper  and  deeper  into  debt.  A  proposed 
benefit  concert  was  a  financial  failure,  resulting  only  in  a 
long  double  file  of  creditors  outside  his  door.  In  1837, 
when  his  life  could  hardly  have  been  more  sordid  and 
miserable,  he  read  a  translation  of  Bulwer  Lytton's 
"Rienzi,"  decided  to  write  an  opera  on  the  subject  and 
forget  his  unhappy  lot  in  the  contemplation  of  the  heroic 
figure  of  the  Last  of  the  Tribunes. 

He  was  the  one  person  not  struck  dumb  with  amaze- 
ment when  this  opera  was  accepted  for  performance  at 
the  Royal  Saxon  Court  Theatre  of  Dresden.  And  what 
is  more,  it  was  a  howling  success !  This,  despite  the  fact 
that  the  performance,  which  started  at  six,  lasted  until 
after  twelve.  "Rienzi"  remains  the  longest  opera 
Wagner  ever  wrote.  Watching  the  performance  the 
composer,  who  had  previously  refused  to  consent  to  a 
single  cut,  became  alarmed  and  confused.  That  he 
was  called  out  enthusiastically  after  each  curtain  meant 
nothing  in  his  frightened  frame  of  mind.  They  were 
being  polite,  or  else  mocking  him!  Long  before  the  end 
he  fled.  Early  the  next  morning,  before  any  of  the 
management  should  be  afoot,  he  made  his  way  to  the 
theatre,  overhauled  and  virtually  cut  hi  half  his  score, 
left  directions  for  the  copyists  to  follow,  and  sneaked 
home  again.  But  he  could  not  keep  away  from  the 
second  performance.  He  then  found  that  his  cuts  had 
been  absolutely  forbidden  by  the  management,  while  the 
tenor,  urged  to  make  excisions  in  his  part,  answered 
hotly  that  he  would  not  give  up  a  note.  "It  is  too 
heavenly,"  he  cried.  Wagner,  unable  to  believe  his  ears, 
hid  himself  in  a  corner  of  a  box,  whence  he  was  dragged 
and  acclaimed  a  rising  composer  of  Germany. 

The  "Rienzi"  Overture  is  an  extremely  brilliant  piece 

135 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

of  music,  enlisting  a  very  large  orchestra  and  anticipating 
dramatically  the  exciting  developments  of  the  plot.  It 
opens  with  a  long-sustained  "A"  of  a  trumpet.  This 
is  the  signal,  in  the  opera,  for  the  outbreak  of  the  people 
against  the  nobles.  In  response  there  rises  from  the 
strings  Rienzi's  prayer  from  the  fifth  act.  The  trumpet 
again  sounds  the  "A,"  beginning  softly,  then  swelling 
the  tone  like  an  imperious  summons  from  afar,  after 
which  agitated  passages  lead  to  the  principal  part,  in 
quicker  movement,  of  the  overture.  It  is  woven  of 
different  passages  from  the  scenes  which  follow.  The 
brass  choir  takes  up  the  battle  hymn,  "Santo  spirito 
cavaliere,"  heard  in  the  third  act.  A  quick  version  of 
Rienzi's  prayer  is  given  the  strings.  The  music  rushes 
tumultuously  and  with  growing  force  and  brilliancy  to 
its  end.  In  it,  in  spite  of  a  musical  style  far  from  that 
of  the  later  Wagner,  is  much  of  the  flaming  temperament, 
the  instinct  for  gorgeous  orchestral  color,  the  revolu- 
tionary fever  that  ran  quick  and  hot  in  Wagner's  veins, 
and  later  sent  him  forth,  an  exile,  from  his  native  land. 

Overture  to  Rienzi 

Played  by  Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  6006 

The  truth  of  the  matter,  which  Wagner  later  realized, 
was  that  Rienzi  was  brilliant,  melodious,  and  conven- 
tional enough  not  to  be  over  the  heads  of  the  local 
public.  It  was  not,  however,  sufficiently  successful  to 
rescue  the  composer  from  his  debts.  Gradually  every- 
thing he  owned,  including  his  traveling  passports,  was 
impounded.  Another  man  would  have  been  discouraged 
by  these  disasters,  perhaps  for  life.  Wagner  became 
more  combative  and  defiant  than  ever,  He  decided  to 
get  to  Paris,  somehow,  and  try  his  fortunes  in  the 
artistic  capital  of  the  world. 

This  involved  flight  over  the  Prussian  border.     Rich- 

136 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

ard  and  Minna  raised  the  last  possible  cent  and  started 
by  stage-coach  for  freedom.  With  their  beloved  dog, 
"Robber,"  they  hid  in  a  smuggler's  den,  then  crept 
between  lines  of  sentries  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  and 
boarded  ship  to  cross  the  Baltic  to  London.  The  journey 
proved  hazardous  in  the  extreme*.  They  encountered  first 
high  winds,  then  a  long  calm,  then  a  terrific  storm.  The 
ship  was  driven  far  from  its  course.  The  sailors,  super- 
stitious, believed  that  the  mysterious  passengers  they  had 
taken  on  board  were  accursed.  Minna  implored  her 
husband  to  tie  her  to  him  with  a  rope,  that  they  might 
be  united  in  death.  At  last  the  vessel  took  refuge  in  a 
Norwegian  fjord  as  the  sailors  called  to  those  on  shore 
with  a  curious  rhythmic  fragment  of  song  which  im- 
bedded itself  in  Wagner's  memory  and  became  a  leading 
motive  of  his  opera,  "The  Flying  Dutchman,"  which  he 
was  to  write  as  a  result  of  this  terrifying  experience  on 
the  sea. 

In  this  opera  Wagner  took  a  further  step  in  the 
development  of  his  original  theories  of  the  music  drama. 
Whereas  in  "Rienzi"  he  had  followed  the  current  style 
of  grand  opera  as  established  by  Meyerbeer,  in  "The 
Flying  Dutchman"  we  discover  the  germs  of  his  entire 
future  development  as  a  composer.  The  story,  derived 
in  part  from  the  poem  of  Heine,  is  of  the  mariner  who, 
having  cursed  God,  is  condemned  to  wander  the  seas 
forever,  unless  he  can  be  redeemed  by  the  love  of  a 
faithful  maiden,  willing  to  give  her  life  that  his  soul 
may  be  saved.  Wagner  employs  in  his  musical  score 
various  representative  themes,  or  "leading  motives," 
associated  with  the  personages  or  principals  of  the 
drama,  as,  for  example,  the  typical  motive  of  the  Dutch- 
man, already  alluded  to,  the  motive  of  the  faithful 
Senta,  and  the  motive  of  redemption,  hymned  by  the 
orchestra  as  the  faithful  maiden,  to  redeem  her  lover, 
casts  herself  into  the  sea.  "The  Flying  Dutchman" 

137 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

("Der  Flieglinde  Hollander"),  which  Wagner  could  not 
get  anyone  to  perform  while  he  was  in  Paris,  was  finally 
produced  under  his  own  direction  on  the  20th  of  October, 
1842,  in  Dresden. 

In  Paris  Wagner  starved,  shivered,  and  wrote  "pot 
boilers"  for  music  publishers  while  Minna  managed 
the  household  and  pawned  even  their  wedding  presents 
to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door.  The  chronicle  of  these 
days  is  a  sad  one,  and  it  is  noteworthy  that  one  of  Wag- 
ner's most  grievous  complaints  occurs  when  he  describes 
the  loss  of  his  dog.  The  unfortunate  composer  was  on 
his  way,  a  metronome  under  his  arm,  to  beg  of  a  cheese- 
monger the  extension  of  one  of  the  notes  which  were 
perpetually  falling  due,  when  "Robber,"  whom  he  had  not 
seen  for  some  time,  confronted  him  in  a  narrow  street. 
Unfortunately  Wagner  was  so  eager  to  recover  the 
animal  that  he  frightened  it  by  the  vehemence  of  his 
gestures,  and  so,  in  a  scene  worthy  of  the  Dostoievsky 
of  "Poor  Folk,"  we  see  the  wretched  musician,  his  coat 
tails  flying  hi  the  air,  the  metronome  under  his  arm, 
pursuing  with  incoherent  cries  his  "Robber."  "Robber" 
vanished  around  a  corner,  and  was  never  seen  again. 
Incidentally  it  may  be  said  here  that  Wagner's  love  of 
animals  was  one  of  his  most  characteristic  traits.  "Rob- 
ber" was  replaced  by  other  pets,  and  they  were  fed,  even 
when  the  larder  was  very  bare.  There  was,  for  example, 
the  parrot  which  soon  learned  to  whistle  themes  from 
"Rienzi,"  from  Beethoven's  Eighth  Symphony  and 
other  important  works,  and  we  have  it  on  Wagner's  own 
authority  that  more  than  once  in  hours  of  depression  he 
was  greatly  cheered  by  these  animals. 

It  was  in  Paris,  nevertheless,  that  Wagner,  turning 
from  the  drudgery  and  disappointment  of  his  daily  life, 
discovered  and  explored  with  passionate  enthusiasm 
the  inexhaustible  treasures  of  Germanic  myth.  There  he 
laid  the  foundations  of  his  "Tannhauser"  and  "Lohen- 

138 


THE   LURE   OF   MUSIC 

grin,"  the  works  of  his  artistic  maturity,  and  even  looked 
farther,  to  the  old  sagas  from  which  he  eventually 
created  the  "Ring  of  the  Nibelungen."  All  the  time 
that  he  was  laboring  and  fighting  these  great  works  kept 
growing,  perfecting  themselves  within  him.  As  he  pro- 
ceeded, each  step  took  him  farther  ahead  of  and  away 
from  the  operatic  fashions  of  the  day.  Hence,  each 
opera  became  more  difficult  to  produce.  It  was  a 
battle  royal  between  tradition  and  Richard  Wagner. 
For  him  there  was  no  way  out  but  achievement. 

"Tannhauser,"  conceived  in  Paris,  was  completed 
in  Dresden.  The  day  came  when,  having  sucked 
money,  as  he  could  do  with  marvelous  art,  from  friends 
and  relatives,  Wagner  found  he  could  return  to  Ger- 
many. There  was  an  anguished  parting  with  a  few 
faithful  friends  and  the  composer,  with  profound  emo- 
tion, set  out  for  his  native  land.  As  if  Nature  herself 
were  conspiring  to  aid  him,  Wagner  saw  the  very  hillside 
on  which,  he  was  certain,  Tannhauser  knelt  hi  repentance 
for  the  delirious  days  in  the  underground  realm  of 
Venus.  And  as  he  thought  this,  there  fell  on  his  ears 
the  sound  of  a  shepherd's  pipe.  Shepherd  and  hill 
were  reproduced  in  his  opera,  the  scene  which  he  per- 
ceived as  he  re-entered  Germany  remaining  so  graven 
in  his  memory  that  he  was  able  to  describe  it  in  the 
smallest  detail  to  the  artist  who,  years  later,  in  1860, 
painted  the  scenery  for  the  production  of  "Tann- 
hauser" in  Paris. 

We  need  not  trace  here  the  various  Tannhauser 
legends  which  Wagner  sifted,  altered,  and  re-assembled 
in  writing  his  libretto.  He  went  through  this  same 
process  in  the  writing  of  all  his  poerns  for  his  operas, 
and  the  history  of  his  studies  and  the  development  of 
his  poetic  conceptions  would  provide  a  volume  in  itself. 
Suffice  it  here  to  say  that  the  basic  thought  of  "Tann- 
hauser" is  that  of  the  erring  knight  who,  having  forsaken 

139 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

the  paths  of  righteousness  and  become  a  willing  slave 
of  Venus,  is  only  saved  from  perdition  by  the  sacrificial 
love  of  the  maiden  Elizabeth.  Her  prayers  for  the  man 
she  loves  at  last  cause  leaves  to  bud  from  the  staff  of 
the  Pope  at  Rome,  the  sign  of  heavenly  pardon  and  for- 
giveness of  the  sinner.  It  will  be  noted  that  the  pre- 
dominating motive  in  this  opera,  as  in  "The  Flying 
Dutchman,"  and  also  in  the  much  later  "Ring  of  the 
Nibelungen,"  is  the  redeeming  power  of  woman's  love. 
All  of  Wagner's  overtures  or  preludes  to  his  operas  are 
intimately  connected  with  the  dramatic  developments 
that  follow.  Thus  the  "Tannhauser"  overture  opens 
with  the  prayerful  chant  of  the  Pilgrims  as  they  wend 
their  way  over  hill  and  dale  to  Rome — the  procession 
joined  in  the  first  act  by  the  repentant  Tannhauser. 
This  is  interrupted  by  the  sensuous,  exciting  music  of 
Venus  and  her  train.  A  solo  clarinet  intones  the  song 
of  the  goddess.  There  is  music  of  emotional  struggle, 
conflict,  aspiration,  until  the  Pilgrims'  hymn  is  heard 
again,  approaching  from  the  distance,  dispersing  the 
music  of  the  Venusberg,  gathering  grandeur  and  sonority 
as  it  comes  nearer,  bringing  to  a  solemn  and  triumphant 
conclusion  this  epitome  of  a  man's  spiritual  redemption. 

"  Tannhauser  "  Overture 

Played  by  Prince's  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5829 

Almost  as  well  known  as  the  overture  is  Wolfram's 
romance  from  the  third  act,  "O  Thou  Sublime.  Sweet 
Evening  Star."  Evening  has  fallen  and  Elizabeth 
prays  for  the  salvation  of  her  knight.  Wolfram,  the 
faithful  friend  of  Tannhauser  and  the  unrewarded  lover 
of  Elizabeth,  sings  of  the  sadness  of  destiny  and  the 
greatness  of  nature. 

"O  Thou  Sublime,  Sweet  Evening  Star" 

Sung  by  Frank  Croxton  Columbia  Record  A  5471 

Played  by  Pablo  Casals  Columbia  Record  A  5953 

140 


"Tannhauser"  was  first  performed  under  the  com- 
poser's direction  in  Dresden,  October  19,  1845.  There- 
after Wagner  occupied  himself  entirely  with  "Lohen- 
grin." He  was  now  in  very  poor  physical  condition. 
His  physician  had  ordered  him  to  take  certain  baths 
and  remain  immersed  in  the  waters  for  an  hour 
every  day.  In  the  mornings  Wagner  wandered  in  the 
woods,  reading  the  old  poetry  of  Wolfram  von  Eschen- 
bach — the  minstrel  of  medieval  times,  whom  he  had 
presented  as  a  dramatic  figure  in  "Tannha'user." 
"Pitching  my  tent  by  the  brook,"  he  says  in  his  memoirs, 
"I  lost  myself  in  Wolfram's  strange,  yet  irresistibly 
fascinating  poem."  This  mental  absorption  induced  a 
state  of  ever-increasing  excitement,  much  to  the  doctor's 
consternation.  Nor  could  Wagner  be  dissuaded  from 
his  reading  and  creating.  The  climax  came  when  one 
day,  while  soaking  in  his  bath,  the  complete  plan  of 
"Lohengrin"  came  into  his  head.  He  leaped  from  the 
water  and  rushed  to  his  manuscript.  The  baths  were 
discontinued;  Wagner  could  not  sleep;  the  physician 
retired  in  disgust;  the  composition  of  "Lohengrin" 
proceeded  with  feverish  rapidity. 

The  "Lohengrin"  prelude  is  not  concerned,  as  are  the 
overtures  of  "Tannhauser"  and  "The  Flying  Dutch- 
man," with  musical  story-telling,  but  is  intended  to  give 
the  hearer  the  vision  of  the  descent  of  the  Grail  from  on 
high  and  the  return  of  the  sacred  vessel  to  its  home  in 
the  heavens.  The  opening  is  famous  for  its  mysterious 
beauty  and  was  a  revolutionary  idea  in  orchestration 
when  Wagner  composed  it.  It  consists  of  high  ethereal 
"harmonics"  for  the  violins,  which  then  intone,  very 
tenderly,  the  theme  of  the  Grail.  Wagner's  treatment 
of  this  theme  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  modern  music. 
The  short  motive  serves  as  the  musical  substance  of  the 
whole  composition,  and  exemplifies  very  wonderfully 
the  composer's  theory  of  "endless  melody" — i.e.,  melody 

141 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

which  does  not  come  to  a  definite  end  after  a  few  meas- 
ured phrases,  but  which  continues,  a  steady  stream  of 
music,  without  a  stop,  from  one  end  of  an  act  or  an 
instrumental  movement  to  the  other.  Observe,  then, 
how  the  theme  draws  itself  out  like  a  telescope;  how, 
in  turn,  the  various  instruments  of  the  orchestra  take  it 
up,  weaving  it  in  and  out  in  one  continuous  musical 
fabric.  Gradually  the  Grail  descends.  The  music 
gathers  to  its  climax.  A  mighty  chord  of  the  brass,  and 
it  is  as  though  the  shining  vessel  were  before  our  eyes. 
Thereafter  the  music  grows  softer  and  still  softer,  until 
finally  one  hears  only  the  high,  mystical  tones — the 
violin  harmonics — of  the  opening,  as  though  the  vision 
had  disappeared  in  the  skies. 

Prelude  to  "Lohengrin  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5894 

Robert  Schumann,  when  Wagner  read  him  the 
libretto  of  "Lohengrin,"  thought  at  first  that  such  a 
poem  could  not  be  successfully  set  to  music.  It  has 
proved  the  most  popular  of  all  Wagner's  operas — this 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  in  a  sense  it  is  the  least 
human  of  them  all.  It  is  poetic  legend.  In  the  music 
is  the  atmosphere  of  that  which  is  mysterious  and  re- 
motely beautiful.  Lohengrin  is  a  figure  of  mystical 
romance.  Elsa,  his  uncomprehending  bride,  has  little 
character  of  any  kind.  The  most  real  personages  are  the 
plotters,  Ortrud  and  Telramund,  but  they  are  protrayed 
in  Wagner's  score  rather  as  "dark  forces"  than  as  human 
beings.  Over  all  is  the  glamour  of  a  more  ethereal 
loveliness  than  had  yet  been  known  in  music. 

Elsa  of  Brabant  has  been  falsely  accused  by  Telra- 
mund and  his  wife,  Ortrud,  of  the  murder  of  her  young 
brother,  Gottfried,  who  has  disappeared.  According  to 
the  custom  of  the  tune,  a  trial  is  announced,  when  it 

142 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

shall  be  seen  if  a  champion  will  arise  who  will  prove 
by  trial  of  arms  the  innocence  of  the  young  princess. 
Trumpets  sound  the  summons,  but  no  champion  ap- 
pears. Elsa  is  questioned.  Her  answers  are  vague  and 
incomprehensible.  She  speaks,  as  one  in  a  trance,  of  a 
knight,  seen  in  her  dreams,  who  is  coming  to  protect  her. 

When  the  trumpets  call  for  the  last  time  a  skiff  is 
seen  floating  down  the  river,  drawn  by  a  swan.  It 
carries  a  knight  clad  in  shining  mail.  Lohengrin,  the 
deliverer,  asks  permission  to  champion  Elsa.  He 
defeats  Telramund,  and  Elsa  is  saved.  He  is  not  able, 
however,  to  overcome  the  influence  that  Ortrud  exerts 
on  Elsa's  mind.  Affecting  remorse  for  her  evil  deeds, 
she  awakens  in  Elsa  a  growing  distrust  of  him  who  has 
rescued  her. 

Lohengrin  and  Elsa  are  wedded.  The  festive  orches- 
tral introduction  to  the  third  act,  in  which  this  event 
takes  place,  and  the  Bridal  Chorus,  are  among  the  most 
popular  pages  Wagner  ever  wrote. 

Introduction  to  Third  Act  of  "  Lohengrin  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5665 

A  mysterious  condition  had  been  made  by  Lohengrin 
when  he  interceded  for  Elsa — that  she  should  never  ask 
him  his  name  or  antecedents.  Now,  her  happiness 
otherwise  complete,  Elsa  cannot  refrain  from  putting  the 
question.  Lohengrin  answers,  sorrowfully  enough,  in  his 
beautiful  "Narrative"  of  his  home  at  Montsalvat,  of 
the  services  the  knights  of  the  Grail  are  bound  to  per- 
form, anonymously,  reverently,  as  guardians  of  the 
sacred  vessel  of  the  blood  of  Christ.  Now,  alas!  he 
must  part  forever  from  his  newly  won  bride.  Telramund 
is  slain  as  he  attempts,  at  this  moment,  to  kill  Lohen- 
grin. In  the  last  scene  the  identity  of  the  swan  is 
revealed  when  Ortrud  confesses  that  she  has  enchanted 

143 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

the  bird,  and  confidently  claims  that  Lohengrin  is 
unable  to  deliver  it  from  her  spell.  Lohengrin  kneels 
in  prayer,  a  dove  descends  from  heaven,  and  in  place  of 
the  swan  stands  the  long-lost  Gottfried.  The  dove, 
replacing  the  swan,  guides  the  skiff  of  Lohengrin  up  the 
river.  The  Knight  of  the  Grail  sorrowfully  farewells 
the  weeping  Elsa. 

Mr.  Runciman  believes  that  Elsa  is  Minna,  that  this 
was  Wagner's  way  of  having  the  last  word  with  his 
wife.  "Lohengrin"  was  first  performed  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Liszt,  Wagner's  friend,  in  Weimar  in  1850.  But 
Wagner  was  not  to  hear  his  own  opera  until  eleven  years 
later.  Other  adventures  awaited  him.  In  1849,  the 
year  of  the  Saxony  Rebellion,  he  became  intimate  with 
the  Russian,  Bakunin,  a  true  precursor  of  Lenin  and 
Trotzky,  and  not  popular  with  the  authorities.  Wagner 
also  made  a  rash  speech  before  a  political  club,  which 
made  a  tremendous  sensation.  He  was  further  guilty  of 
giving  free  tickets  to  revolutionists  who  applauded 
frantically  his  appearances  at  the  opera.  Then  the 
revolution  came  to  a  head;  Prussianism  triumphed; 
three  of  Wagner's  friends,  including  Bakunin,  were  sen- 
tenced to  death;  he,  aroused  with  difficulty  to  his 
position,  was  persuaded  in  the  nick  of  time  to  make  his 
way  over  the  border.  Thus  was  Wagner  again  flung, 
homeless  and  friendless,  on  the  world. 

Nature  has  her  own  plans  for  her  great  men.  The 
only  kind  of  a  catastrophe  which  would  have  sufficed 
to  pry  the  composer  loose  forever  from  a  deadening 
security  had  occurred.  Lacking  that  crisis,  who  knows 
what  Wagner  might  have  sunk  to  at  the  hands  of 
convention  and  routine.  He  was  entering  on  the  freest, 
most  intensively  creative  period  of  his  career,  ancj  cir- 
cumstances pushed  him  forward.  This  point  also 
marked  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  his  relations  with  his 
first  wife. 

144 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

It  is  not  hard  to  understand  the  fearful  shock  that 
Wagner's  part  in  the  events  of  1849  was  to  Minna. 
Her  lot,  as  the  partner  of  one  of  the  most  incorrigible 
egotists  in  all  history,  could  never  have  been  over- 
comfortable.  Of  course  she  did  not  understand  her 
husband.  Of  course  she  had  the  mind  and  the  stand- 
ards of  women  of  her  place  hi  life.  But  she  did  her  best, 
and  she  endured  an  unspeakable  deal.  Both  of  them 
did.  They  were  mismated.  They  suffered  intensely 
from  it.  Wagner,  too,  endured  and  forgave,  but  he  was 
not  the  only  one  who  deserved  sympathy. 

Then,  too,  while  Wagner  remained  at  his  post  in 
Dresden,  there  was  more  than  an  even  chance  that  some 
day  would  find  them  out  of  debt.  True,  he  was  in  cer- 
tain things  extravagant,  determined  to  have  at  any 
cost  what  he  needed,  or  thought  he  needed,  to  compose. 
He  paid  heavy  sums  to  have  his  scores  published,  and 
forgotten  creditors  of  the  Magdeburg  and  Riga  days 
kept  turning  up,  until  the  composer  exclaimed  wildly 
that  he  expected  to  get  a  bill  from  the  nurse  who  had 
suckled  him.  They  were  gaining,  nevertheless.  Minna 
was  the  happy  and  respectable  wife  of  a  musician  with 
various  official  titles,  and  they  had  achieved  an  un- 
precedented measure  of  security  and  comfort  when  a 
madman's  folly  blew  the  whole  thing  up  in  smoke. 

There  were  more  stormy  years,  until,  tempest-tossed, 
Wagner  and  the  well-meaning  woman  who  was  now  his 
wife  in  name  only,  found  a  refuge.  They  found  it  at 
the  hands  of  the  Wesendoncks,  in  Zurich,  Switzerland. 
Mathilde  Wesendonck  was  a  woman  of  education  and 
intellectuality.  Her  husband  was  a  silk  merchant  with 
extensive  interests  in  America.  Mathilde  persuaded  her 
husband  to  build  for  Wagner  an  idyllic  retreat,  over- 
looking lake  and  valleys  of  the  Alps,  where  he  could 
compose  in  happiness  and  peace.  All  would  have  been 
well  had  it  not  been  for  the  attraction  which  developed 

145 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

between  Wagner  and  Frau  Wesendonck.  The  day  came 
when  he  read  her  the  poem  of  "Tristan  and  Isolde," 
and  that  day,  like  Paolo  and  Francesca,  they  read  no 
more.  Minna,  who  could  be  jealous  if  she  could  no 
longer  love,  discovered  a  letter.  It  was  one  of  renuncia- 
tion, but  this  did  not  help  matters.  For  Wagner  there 
was  nothing  but  to  leave  his  asylum  forever.  He  went 
to  Venice.  There,  in  a  frenzy  of  inspiration,  he  com- 
pleted what  is  perhaps  his  greatest  work.  Strange  man ! 
he  carried  on  for  some  time  a  correspondence  with 
Mathilde  Wesendonck,  and  in  this  correspondence  he 
shows  himself  more  and  more  forgetful  of  their  tragedy 
and  more  and  more  exultant  over  the  opera  to  which, 
according  to  sentimentalists,  their  love  had  given  birth. 
We  say  "according  to  sentimentalists,"  because  Wagner 
had  thought  of  "Tristan  and  Isolde"  before  he  fell  in 
love  with  Mathilde  Wesendonck.  He  called  "Tristan 
and  Isolde"  "the  child  of  sorrow."  Perhaps,  in  the 
impersonal  eye  of  destiny,  Mathilde  Wesendonck  had 
herself  to  congratulate  for  having  fulfilled  her  mission 
in  aiding  Wagner  to  complete  his  masterpiece.  But 
Mathilde  did  not  attend  the  first  performance  of  "Tris- 
tan and  Isolde "  ("  Tristan  und  Isolde"),  which  took 
place  in  Munich,  June  10,  1867. 

Tristan  and  Isolde  are  fated  to  love.  They  are 
united  not  only  by  the  passion  which  came  unbidden  to 
them,  but  by  the  love  potion  prepared  by  Brangaene, 
Isolde's  serving-maid,  in  place  of  the  death  draught 
which  the  desperate  Isolde  had  ordered,  that  she  and 
Tristan  might  together  meet  destruction.  This  thought 
of  inescapable  destiny  is  emphasized  by  Wagner  in  a 
manner  akin  to  that  of  the  old  masters  of  Greek  tragedy. 
From  the  moment  of  the  drinking  of  the  potion,  which 
takes  place  while  Tristan  is  escorting  Isolde  to  Cornwall 
as  the  prospective  bride  of  old  King  Mark,  the  end  is 
determined.  Only  in  death  will  the  lovers  find  surcease 

146 


THE   LURE    OF   MUSIC 

from  sorrow.  Tristan  and  Isolde  meet  at  night  in  the 
garden  of  Mark's  castle.  There  they  sing  passionately 
of  their  love,  unheeding  of  Brangaene's  warning  from  the 
watch-tower,  until  they  are  surprised  by  Mark  and  his 
courtiers,  and  Tristan  is  mortally  wounded  by  his 
treacherous  friend,  Melot.  At  last  Tristan  lies  dying, 
praying  that  Isolde  may  heed  the  message  he  has  sent 
her,  and  come  to  him.  Isolde's  ship  arrives  too  late. 
Tristan  expires  in  her  arms.  Will  she  follow  him  to  that 
kingdom  where  day  gives  place  to  night,  where  life  gives 
place  to  eternity?  Isolde,  surrounded  by  Mark  and  his 
followers — Mark  who,  understanding  at  last,  has  come 
not  to  slay,  but  to  forgive  and  unite — sings  her  incom- 
parable death  song,  that  rises,  shaking  out  its  wings, 
for  the  spirit's  flight.  "Do  you  not  see,"  she  cries, 
looking  on  the  body  of  Tristan,  "how  he  smiles?  Do 
you  not  hear  the  music  that  sweeps  through  the  skies?" 
As  she  falls  on  Tristan's  body  the  orchestra  echoes,  like 
a  parting  sigh,  the  motive  of  insatiable  longing  which 
united  the  lovers  in  life,  which  unites  them  in  death, 
even  as  the  laurel  and  the  vine,  which,  according  to 
ancient  legend,  entwine  over  their  graves. 

Isolde's  "  Love-Death  "  ("  Liebestod  ") 

Played  by  Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

(Felix  Weingartner,  conductor) 

Columbia  Record  A  5464 

Wagner  was  pardoned  and  returned  to  Germany  in 
1861.  Despite  the  fact  that  his  operas  were  beginning 
to  win  recognition,  his  fortunes  were  at  a  lower  point 
than  ever,  and,  while  the  public  was  favorable,  the  critics 
were  extraordinarily  hostile  and  abusive.  The  artist 
has  his  own  methods  of  revenge.  It  was  in  this  year 
that  Wagner  finished  his  immortal  comedy,  "The 
Mastersingers  of  Nuremberg"  ("Die  Meistersinger  von 
Niirnberg").  The  hero  of  this  opera  is  young  Walther 

147 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

von  Stolzing,  a  knight  and  a  poet,  who  craves  entrance 
to  the  guild  of  tradesmen  and  musicians  known  as  the 
Mastersingers.  The  requirements  for  entrance  to  this 
guild  are  very  strict.  The  applicant  must  compose 
and  sing  a  prize  song  which  must  conform  to  an  incredible 
number  of  stiff,  pedantic,  meaningless  rules.  It  is  not 
hard  to  discern  in  the  person  of  Walther,  Wagner  himself, 
the  singer  of  a  new  art,  and  in  the  pedantic  Meister- 
singers  Wagner's  crabbed  and  uncomprehending  critics. 
One  of  the  Meistersingers,  yclept  Beckmesser,  opposes 
Walther's  entrance  to  the  guild,  and  also  becomes  his 
rival  for  the  prize  of  the  approaching  contest  of  song — 
the  hand  of  the  fair  Eva,  daughter  of  Hans  Sachs,  one 
of  the  noblest,  as  he  is  one  of  the  most  human,  of  Wag- 
ner's characters.  Beckmesser,  who  can  criticize  plenti- 
fully, but  who  cannot  create,  steals  the  song  composed 
by  Walther,  intending  to  forestall  him  at  the  tournament. 
But  he  is  not  equal  to  his  project.  He  makes  a  fool  of 
himself  before  a  concourse  of  the  people.  Wagner  evi- 
dently means  to  say  here  that  pedantry  cannot  ape 
genius.  WTalther  rises  to  sing  and  the  populace  are 
spellbound  by  his  song  of  youth,  genius,  and  love,  a  song 
as  fresh  as  the  morning  dew. 

Walther's  "  Prize  Song  " 

Arranged  for  Violin  and  Played  by  Eugen  Ysaye 
Columbia  Record  36513 

In  the  midst  of  the  gloom  occasioned  by  his  material 
difficulties,  Wagner  completed  the  glorious,  laughing 
music  of  this,  his  one  operatic  comedy.  But  thereafter 
inspiration  seemed  to  depart.  The  fight  was  knocked 
out  of  him.  Disheartened  by  artistic  and  financial  dis- 
appointments, he  was  on  his  way  to  Lucerne  when  a 
most  dramatic  incident  saved  the  day.  Young  Ludwig 
II  of  Bavaria  came  to  the  throne.  Wagner's  poem  of 
"The  Ring  of  the  Nibelungen"  had  fallen  into  the  king's 

148 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

hands.  He  had  heard  "Lohengrin"  in  his  eighteenth 
year.  Ludwig's  secretary  was  dispatched  posthaste 
after  the  fleeing  composer,  whom  he  caught  up  with  at 
Stuttgart,  and  to  whom  he  gave  a  purse,  the  assurance 
of  a  royal  pension,  and  the  king's  message,  which  read, 
"Come  here  and  finish  your  work." 

The  battle  was  won ;  the  wolf  driven  forever  from  the 
door.  The  king,  who  was  undoubtedly  half  a  madman, 
and  one  of  many  whom  the  composer  dominated  in  the 
name  of  his  art,  financed  Wagner's  projects  with  a 
generosity  which  added  to  his  unpopularity  in  certain 
circles.  In  due  course  the  Bayreuth  project  came  to 
flower.  This  consisted  in  the  erection  of  a  theatre 
especially  designed  for  the  production  of  Wagner's 
operas  at  Bayreuth.  Here  the  four  operas  which  com- 
prise the  cycle,  "The  Ring  of  the  Nibelungen"  ("Der 
Ring  des  Nibelungen"),  were  performed  in  their  colossal 
entirety  at  the  first  Bayreuth  festival  of  1876. 

In  this  vast  work,  of  which  "the  lines,"  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Debussy,  "stretch  out  into  infinity,"  Wagner 
took  the  rough  ore  of  the  ancient  Nibelungen  sagas  and 
made  it  into  gold.  Singular  to  relate,  there  is  the  com- 
plete prophecy,  in  this  work,  of  the  downfall  of  the 
monarchistic  civilization  being  reared  at  that  time  by 
western  Europe  and  by  no  nation  more  assiduously, 
with  more  definitely  selfish  and  materialistic  purpose, 
than  by  the  Germany  which  rose  up  after  1870. 

From  the  moment  when  the  misshapen  dwarf,  Al- 
berich,  turns  from  Love,  as  personified  for  him  by  the 
nymphs  of  the  Rhine,  to  desire  of  Gold  and  Power, 
there  commences  the  destruction  of  the  established  order. 
The  high  gods  themselves,  caught  in  the  toils  of  greed 
and  fear,  lie,  thieve,  and  compromise  with  evil  in  order 
to  gain  their  ends.  Wotan  is  seen,  aware  of  the  dis- 
aster he  himself  has  provoked,  trying  by  every  means  to 

avert  the  catastrophe  which  he  well  knows  will  arrive. 
12  149 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

His  own  children,  Siegfried  and  Briinnhilde,  are  sacri- 
ficed to  the  evil  which  has  been  wrought,  but  at  last 
their  love  redeems  the  world.  Siegfried  is  murdered. 
Briinnhilde,  mourning  him,  mounts  the  funeral  pyre. 
The  waters  of  the  great  river  rise,  to  cleanse  away  the 
shame  of  the  world.  Walhalla,  home  of  the  futile  old 
gods  who  ruled  from  strongholds  of  power  and  privilege, 
goes  up  in  flames. 

It  is  impossible  in  the  limits  of  a  short  chapter  to 
tell  in  detail  the  picturesque  and  legendary  incidents  of 
"The  Rhinegold"  ("Das  Rheingold"),  "The  Valkyrie" 
("Die  Walkure"),  "Seigfried,"  and  "The  Twilight  of 
the  Gods"  ("Gotterdammerung").  Each  of  these 
works  takes  an  evening  to  perform.  In  each  of  them 
are  passages  of  Wagner  at  his  very  greatest.  If  there 
is  the  occasional  place  where  the  .action  sags  a  little, 
where  the  philosopher  gets  the  better  of  the  dramatist 
and  the  musician,  the  proportions  of  the  task  the  com- 
poser set  himself  is  the  explanation.  Two  passages 
of  nature-music,  in  which  Wagner  was  always  great, 
often  sublime,  are  the  "Ride  of  the  Valkyries"  and  the 
"Magic  Fire"  music  from  the  second  of  these  operas. 
The  "Ride  of  the  Valkyries"  ("Walkiirenritt")  is 
heard  at  the  opening  to  the  second  act.  Storm  clouds 
form  a  background  as  the  Valkyries,  riding  their  war 
steeds  through  the  air,  assemble  with  wild  cries  and 
narrate  the  death  of  Siegmund  in  battle. 

"  Ride  of  the  Valkyries  " 

Played  by  Chicago  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5903 

The  wonderful  music  of  Briinnhilde's  sleep  makes  the 
final  scene.  She,  the  Valkyrie,  having  disobeyed  the 
commands  of  Wotan,  is  condemned  by  her  father  to  an 
age-long  slumber,  and  surrounded  by  flames  to  guard 
her  safely  until  Siegfried,  the  hero  who  does  not  know 

150 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

fear,  shall  waken  her  and  make  her  his  mate.  Here 
Wagner's  capacity  for  scene-painting  in  tones  is  su- 
perbly displayed  as  Wotan  strides  majestically  forward 
and,  striking  the  rocks  with  his  spear,  summons  Loki, 
god  of  fire,  to  do  his  bidding.  The  flames  hiss  and  roar 
and  flicker  as  Wotan  bids  his  daughter  a  noble  and 
melancholy  farewell.  In  the  orchestral  arrangement  of 
this  music  the  song  of  Wotan  is  heard,  played  by  the 
brass  underneath  the  scintillating  effects  of  strings, 
wood,  and  harp.  Combined  with  these  figures  is  the 
lullaby,  the  music  of  Briinnhilde's  sleep. 

"Magic  Fire"  Scene  from  "  The  Valkyrie" 

Played  by  Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

(Felix  Weingartner,  Conductor) 

Columbia  Record  A  5594 

Wagner's  name,  by  the  time  Bayreuth  had  been 
established,  and  the  "Ring  of  the  Nibelungen"  mounted 
on  the  stage,  was  one  to  conjure  with.  He  was  a  born 
propagandist,  a  vigorous,  if  involved  and  controversial 
writer.  Wagner  societies  were  established  everywhere 
to  collect  funds  for  Bayreuth.  Wagner  was  accused 
of  lining  his  pockets,  until  it  was  announced  that 
Bayreuth  faced  deficits. 

Minna,  who  had  previously  parted  from  her  husband, 
had  died,  in  1866.  In  1870  Wagner  married  Cosima 
von  Billow.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Liszt  and  the  wife 
of  the  composer's  previous  friend,  disciple,  and  supporter, 
Hans  von  Billow.  Wagner  took  the  woman  to  himself 
ruthlessly,  as  he  had  helped  himself  ruthlessly  to  every- 
thing he  wanted  all  his  life.  The  union  was  a  happy  one. 
A  far  more  beautiful  composition  than  anything  in 
Wagner's  last  opera,  "Parsifal,"  is  the  orchestral  piece, 
the  "Siegfried  Idyll,"  in  which  are  incorporated  a  num- 
ber of  the  themes  from  the  opera  "Siegfried."  It  was 
composed  when  Wagner's  son,  named  after  the  hero  of 

151 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

the  "Ring,"  was  born.     To-day  Cosima  and  Seigfried 
reign  over  what  the  war  has  left  of  Bayreuth. 

A  word  concerning  "Parsifal."  Before  Wagner  com- 
posed this  work  he  had  in  mind  two  other  subjects  for 
operas.  One  was  a  Christian  and  the  other  an  Oriental 
theme.  Christianity  and  Buddhism  mingle  curiously 
in  "Parsifal."  The  story  is  that  of  Parsifal,  the  Guile- 
less Fool,  descendant  of  Sir  Galahad,  whose  innocence 
and  purity  save  the  accursed  Kundry  from  the  power 
of  Klingsor,  the  magician,  and  restore  the  Grail  to  its 
rightful  home  on  Monsalvat.  In  place  of  the  sweeping 
passion  of  "Tristan,"  of  the  open-air  feeling  and  the 
pulse  of  the  good  common  folk  in  "The  Mastersingers," 
or  the  grandeur  of  the  dramas  of  the  Ring,  in  which  men 
and  gods  contend  together,  we  have  here  a  doctrine  of 
philosophic  renunciation.  In  "Parsifal"  some  see  the 
most  mystical  and  inspired  of  all  Wagner's  creations.  Con- 
temporaneous critics,  in  a  majority,  find  the  music  less 
convincing  than  that  of  earlier  works,  and  it  is  pointed 
out  that  two  of  the  most  beautiful  passages,  the  "Good 
Friday"  music  and  the  music  for  the  Flower  Maidens 
who  tempt  Parsifal  in  Klingsor's  gardens,  were  composed 
earlier  than  other  parts  of  the  opera. 

"Parsifal"  or  no  "Parsifal,"  Wagner  had  done  his 
work.  He  had  created  a  music  as  new  as  anything 
under  the  sun  could  be,  of  a  nervous  power,  intensity, 
and  splendor  before  undreamed  of.  This  music,  at 
first  unpopular  and  incomprehensible,  is  to-day  accepted 
everywhere,  and  we  are  moved  past  words  by  its  beauty 
and  poignancy.  Wagner  had  many  theories  of  opera. 
His  principal  ideas  were  these:  the  combination,  not 
only  of  music  and  drama,  but  of  all  the  arts  which 
naturally  assemble  in  the  theater;  the  choice  of  mythical 
and  legendary  subjects  as  the  best  material  for  the 
poet -musician;  the  abolition  of  set  operatic  forms,  such 
as  the  solo,  duet,  or  ensemble  number,  in  favor  of  the' 

152 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

free  flight  of  the  music  and  the  logical,  unimpeded 
development  of  the  drama;  the  use  of  "leading-motives," 
already  described,  developed  in  a  symphonic  manner 
by  the  orchestra,  accentuating  the  situations  on  the 
stage.  Wagner  also  wanted  his  actors  to  assume 
attitudes  suggestive  of  sculpture.  As  has  been  ob- 
served, such  actions  on  the  part  of  an  actor  would 
create  the  strong  impression  that  he  was  sick  or  in  pain ! 
After  all,  what  are  an  artist's  theories?  More  often  than 
not  they  are  pegs  on  which  he  can  hang  his  art.  Wagner 
music  is  the  overwhelming  thing  that  lives  after  him. 

He  died  in  1883,  full  of  honors.  We  have  spoken 
plainly  of  his  life,  as  well  as  of  his  art.  An  artist's  life  is 
like  a  cathedral.  At  first  there  is  grubbing  in  the  soil, 
apparent  aimlessness,  disorder,  confusion.  Years  may 
pass  before  clear  outlines  appear,  years  more  before  these 
outlines  assume  relation  to  one  another.  The  day 
comes  when  the  structure  is  complete.  Scaffolding  and 
rubbish  are  taken  away.  We  suddenly  catch  our 
breath.  Lo!  in  place  of  the  dirt,  the  turmoil,  the  con- 
fusion, there  stands  a  towering  monument  to  God. 


AMBROISE  THOMAS 

ESUEUR,  the  teacher  of  Ambroise  Thomas  at  the 
Paris  Conservatoire,  called  his  talented  pupil  his 
"note  sensible"  (the  "sensitive"  or  "leading"  tone 
of  the  scale),  because  of  Thomas's  musical  sensitiveness 
and  because  he  was  the  seventh  of  Lesueur's  pupils  to  win 
the  Grand  Prix  de  Rome. 

The  son  of  a  musician,  Ambroise  Thomas,  born  at 
Metz,  August  5,  1811,  learned  notes  with  his  alphabet 
and  soon  played  the  piano  and  violin.  A  man  of  ex- 
ceptional quickness  and  sensibility,  as  the  phrase  of 
Lesueur  implied,  he  was  impatient  of  pretense  or  plati- 
tude, and  did  not  miscalculate  the  value  of  academic 
honors.  He  knew  that  it  was  one  thing  to  please  his 
teachers  and  another  to  gain  the  ear  of  the  world. 
He  returned  to  Paris  as  soon  as  he  had  spent  the  three 
years  of  the  Grand  Prix  scholarship  in  travel  and  at 
Rome,  and  began  producing  operettas.  His  early 
works  gained  considerable  temporary  success. 

Thomas,  like  most  French  composers,  had  the  inborn 
talent  for  the  stage,  a  knack  of  driving  home  a  situation, 
a  captivating  gaiety  and  lightness  of  touch,  agreeable 
then  as  now.  There  ensued  a  short  period,  however, 
when  the  public  seemed  to  tire  of  his  works.  Then 
descended  upon  Paris  the  distracting  political  events 
of  the  Revolution  of  1848.  In  that  year  art  was 
relegated  to  the  background.  Thomas,  in  the  uniform 
of  the  National  Guard,  passed  under  a  friend's  window 
brandishing  a  gun:  "This  is  the  instrument  upon  which 
I  must  compose  to-day,  and  the  music  it  produces  re- 
quires no  words." 

154 


X 


\~ 


THOMAS,     1811-1896 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

In  1849  he  recovered  and  strengthened  his  position 
with  the  public  with  his  opera  bouffe,  "Le  Cai'd,"  pro- 
duced at  the  Opera  Comique,  January  3d  of  that  year. 

"Le  Cai'd"  ("The  Cadi")  is  a  satire,  as  witty  and 
diverting  a  piece  as  Thomas  ever  produced,  on  musical 
conditions  of  his  day.  He  is  heard  here  in  his  most 
Gallic  vein.  In  this  comedy  his  jests  scintillate,  and 
delightful  melodies  drop  from  his  sleeve.  The  scene  is 
Algiers.  The  "hero,"  if  so  he  can  be  called,  is  the  fat 
and  cowardly  Cadi.  There  are  foolish  men,  scheming 
women,  and  various  Oriental  characters.  Michel,  the 
drum  major,  addicted  to  the  bottle,  compares  its  charms 
to  those  of  the  Mohammedan  paradise  in  a  lively,  funny 
air. 

"  Air  du  tambour-major  "  ("  Song  of  the  drum-major  ") 

Sung  by  Leon  Rothier 
Columbia  Record  A  5876 

The  two  greatest  works  of  Thomas  were  "Mignon," 
produced  at  the  Opera  Comique,  November  17,  1866, 
and  "Hamlet,"  first  performed  at  the  Opera,  March  9, 
1868.  The  success  of  "Mignon,"  an  opera  full  of 
melody  and  beautiful  orchestration,  was  immediate  and 
overwhelming.  Within  six  months  it  had  one  hundred 
performances,  and  the  composer  was  presented  with  the 
Grand  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  Thomas  lived  to 
attend  the  one-thousandth  performance  of  the  work. 
The  libretto,  by  Jules  Barbier  and  Michel  Carre,  pre- 
sents incidents  from  the  plot  of  Goethe's  "Wilhelm 
Meister"  arranged  in  conformance  with  the  prevailing 
French  operatic  style.  A  great  poem  or  story  may  be 
treated  in  different  ways  by  a  composer  of  opera.  The 
composer  will  have  to  change  the  literary  form  to  make 
it  fit  the  requirements  of  music  and  spectacle,  but  in 
doing  this  he  may  retain  the  fundamental  meanings 
and  scope  of  his  subject-matter.  Or  the  composer 

155 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

may  select  from  an  over-richness  of  material  some 
single  episode  that  has  emotional  and  pictorial  interest, 
and  make  of  it  a  stage  spectacle. 

Mignon,  the  daughter  of  noble  parents,  was  stolen 
from  her  home  in  Italy  by  gipsies.  Her  mother  died  of 
grief.  Her  father,  half-crazed  with  sorrow,  wandered 
from  land  to  land,  seeking  his  child.  In  the  courtyard 
of  an  inn  (Act  I)  Mignon  is  ordered  by  the  gipsy  chief 
to  dance  for  the  entertainment  of  a  troupe  of  actors  on 
their  way  to  the  castle  of  a  nobleman,  where  they  are 
to  take  part  in  a  festival.  Because  of  fatigue,  Mignon 
refuses  to  do  this,  and  the  chief  is  about  to  beat  her 
when  an  aged  harper,  the  half-demented  Lothario,  pro- 
tects the  girl,  and  the  student,  Wilhelm,  also  advances  to 
her  relief.  Questioning  Mignon  about  herself,  Wilhelm 
receives  as  his  answer  the  wistful,  dreamy  song  of  the 
first  act,  "Know'st  thou  the  land?"  in  which  the  girl 
seems  as  one  in  a  dream  to  behold  the  distant  home  of 
her  childhood.  "Do  you  know  the  land,"  she  sings, 
"where  the  orange-blossom  grows,  where  spring  reigns 
eternal,  where  the  skies  are  ever  blue?  It  is  there  I 
would  fain  return;  it  is  there  I  would  live  and  die." 
This  represents  one  of  Thomas's  highest  flights  as  a 
composer. 

"Connais  tu  le  pays?  "  ("  Know'st  thou  the  land?  ") 

Sung  by  Bettina  Freeman 

Columbia  Record  30475 

Wilhelm  purchases  Mignon's  freedom  of  the  gipsies. 
The  actors  proceed  to  the  castle.  Filina,  beautiful  and 
selfish,  looks  with  a  favoring  eye  on  the  student,  who 
is  invited  to  accompany  the  troupe.  Mignon,  full  of 
gratitude,  asks  to  go  with  Wilhelm  disguised  as  his 
servant. 

At  the  castle  Wilhelm  is  deep  in  the  toils  of  Filina. 
Meanwhile  Mignon  has  come  to  love  her  rescuer. 

156 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Wilhelm  is  oblivious  of  her  charms.  He  quarrels  with 
Frederic,  Filina's  admirer,  and  Filina  is  cruelly  amused 
at  the  simple  tactics  of  Mignon.  It  was  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  scene  (Act  II)  that  Thomas  inserted  for  the 
benefit  of  Madame  Trebelli,  who  took  the  part  of 
Frederic  in  the  London  production,  the  piquant  Rondo 
Gavotte,  one  of  the  show  pieces  of  the  ooera.  It  is 
sung  by  Frederic  as  he  waits  in  Filina's  boudoir. 

Rondo  Gavotte,   "  Me  void  "   ("  I  am  here  ") 

Sung  by  Margaret  Romaine 

Columbia  Record  A  2846 

The  troupe  gives  a  performance  of  "A  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,"  and  Filina  is  radiant  in  the  costume  of 
Titania.  Flushed  by  her  triumph  and  by  the  homage 
paid  her  beauty,  she  sings  her  polonaise,  a  brilliant  and 
effective  air  appropriate  to  Filina's  character. 

Polacca,  "  lo  son  Titania  "  ("I  am  Titania  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record  49598 

Filina  sends  Mignon  to  the  castle.  Suddenly  the 
edifice  is  in  flames.  Lothario  has  applied  the  torch, 
believing  this  to  be  Mignon's  wish.  Wilhelm  emerges 
from  the  building  with  the  unconscious  Mignon  in  his 
arms. 

In  the  last  act  Mignon  is  recovering  from  a  long  illness, 
while  Wilhelm  and  Lothario  watch  over  her.  Lothario 
has  brought  the  girl  to  the  home  of  his  youth,  where  long- 
forgotten  scenes  help  to  restore  his  mind.  Wilhelm 
knows  at  last  that  he  loves  Mignon,  and  while  she  sleeps 
sings  of  his  devotion. 

Mignon,  waking,  repeats  the  words  of  a  prayer  taught 
her  in  infancy  by  her  mother.  By  this  means,  and  by 
the  discover}7  of  a  girdle  worn  by  her  in  childhood,  the 

157 


Count  Lothario  recognizes  his  daughter  and  all  ends 
well. 

There  were  several  versions  of  this  opera.  In  one  Mig- 
non  married  Wilhelm;  in  the  other  she  died.  The 
public  preferred  the  wedding,  and  M.  Thomas  had  no 
objections. 

It  was  Messrs.  Barbier  and  Carre  who  again  obliged 
Thomas  when  they  gave  him  a  libretto  ostensibly  based 
on  Shakespeare's  "Hamlet."  Some  scenes  of  the  play 
and  part  of  the  text  of  Shakespeare,  notably  the  solilo- 
quy of  Hamlet,  "To  be  or  not  to  be,"  are  reproduced, 
but  we  recognize  the  characters  more  often  than  we  recog- 
nize the  sequences  of  Shakespeare's  drama.  The  form 
is  that  of  the  conventional  French  grand  opera.  There 
are  five  acts.  In  the  second  act  Hamlet  engages  the 
players,  and  discovers  beyond  doubt  the  guilt  of  his  step- 
father. This  is  the  scene  in  which,  with  forced  gaiety, 
Hamlet  sings  the  well-known  drinking-song. 

"Chanson  Bachique  "  (Drinking-song) 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle 
Columbia  Record  A  5547 

The  finale  of  this  opera  was  doubtless  conceived  as 
a  Gallic  antidote  for  Shakespearean  gloom.  Hamlet 
mourns  over  Ophelia's  grave  and  determines  to  kill  him- 
self. The  king  approaches,  at  the  head  of  a  cortege. 
The  ghost  rises  again  and  looks  reproachfully  at  Hamlet, 
who,  at  last,  turns  about  and  stabs  the  king.  The 
populace,  easily  convinced  that  the  man  was  a  mur- 
derer, will  not  hear  of  Hamlet's  suicide,  and  acclaim  him 
as  their  ruler. 

After  all,  opera  is  opera,  and  musicians  are  the  last 
to  be  troubled  by  any  trifling  little  changes  of  plot  or 
story.  There  are  still  Italian  provinces  that  know 
"Othello"  only  through  the  opera  of  Rossini,  which 
has  a  happy  ending.  As  for  "Hamlet,"  witness  the  re- 

158 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

mark  of  a  not  uncelebrated  conductor  who  had  the 
birthplace  of  Shakespeare  at  Stratford-on-Avon  pointed 
out  to  him: 

"Shakespeare?     Who  was  he?" 

"Why,  you  know!  He  wrote  'Romeo  and  Juliet,' 
'Othello,'  and  'Hamlet."1 

"All,  yes!     Of  course!     Of  course!     The  librettist !" 

Thomas  was  a  man  of  broad  culture,  a  brilliant  con- 
versationalist, and  a  favorite  at  the  court  of  Napoleon 
III.  He  was  successively  chevalier  (1845),  officer  (1858), 
and  commander  (1868)  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  and  a 
member  of  the  Institute  (1851).  His  tastes,  however, 
were  simple.  Feted  everywhere,  enjoying  most  of  the 
honors  that  his  country  could  shower  upon  him,  he 
loved  nature,  and  when  not  engaged  in  Paris  was  most 
often  found  on  a  quiet  island  in  Brittany,  where  he  es- 
caped from  the  turmoil  of  the  city. 

His  music  has  a  distinction,  refinement,  and  polish  of 
its  own.  He  was  deeply  versed  in  the  traditions  of  the 
French  stage.  He  wrote  admirably  for  the  voice.  He 
understood  the  art  of  instrumentation,  and  his  later 
scores  abound  in  delicate,  pleasing  effects.  His  talent 
did  not  run  as  deep  as  that  of  Gounod,  but  he  had  style 
and  charm.  His  aims  were  serious,  perhaps  too  serious 
for  the  quality  of  his  art,  yet  he  was  a  modest  man. 
He  often  remarked  that  the  most  gratifying  experience 
of  his  career  was  the  free  performance  of  "Mignon" 
given  on  the  day  following  the  gala  celebration  in  May, 
1894.  "It  gave  an  imprint,"  said  he,  "of  a  national 
character  to  my  work."  He  was  an  ardent  patriot. 
In  1870  he  saw  his  birthplace  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
an  event  which  saddened  his  later  years.  He  died  in 
Paris,  February  12,  1896. 


CHARLES  FRANCOIS  GOUNOD 

EMOTIONAL,  impressionable,  devout,  Charles  Fran- 
(jois  Gounod  vacillated  all  his  life  between  the  the- 
ater and  the  cloister.  This  is  reflected  in  his  art. 
His  dramatic  music  seldom  lacks  the  religious  element. 
His  religious  music  is  music  of  amorous  emotion  as  well 
as  worship.  Listening  to  it,  it  is  as  though  one  heard, 
beyond  the  prayer,  the  rustle  of  silken  skirts  in  the 
gallery. 

Gounod  was  born  in  Paris,  June  17,  1818.  His  grand- 
mother knew  music  and  poetry  and  was  an  accomplished 
actress.  His  father  was  a  painter,  and  it  was  thought 
for  some  time  that  Charles  would  follow  in  his  footsteps. 
His  mother,  who  had  the  charm,  the  thrift,  the  culture 
of  a  Frenchwoman  of  good  birth,  taught  drawing  and 
music,  and  by  this  means  supported  her  family  after 
the  death  of  her  husband  in  1823. 

When  Gounod  was  six  he  was  taken  to  the  opera, 
nearly  perishing  with  excitement.  He  could  neither 
eat  nor  drink.  The  mother  said: 

"You  know  if  you  do  not  eat  you  do  not  go  to  the 
theater." 

"Before  such  a  threat,"  wrote  Gounod,  "I  would 
have  heroically  swallowed  anything  they  could  put 
before  me.  I  dined,  therefore,  with  exemplary  obedi- 
ence, and  .  .  .  there  we  were,  mother  and  I,  starting 
out  for  the  promised  land.  It  seemed  as  if  I  was  about 
to  enter  a  sanctuary.  ...  I  was  filled  with  a  sort  of  sacred 
terror,  as  at  the  approach  of  some  mystery,  imposing 
and  redoubtable.  I  experienced  emotions  as  profound 

160 


GOUNOD,   1818-1893 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

as  they  were  unknown;  the  desire  and  fear  of  that  which 
was  to  pass  before  me." 

The  boy  was  obviously  so  stirred  by  this  experience 
that  his  mother,  who  did  not  wish  him  to  study  music, 
was  uneasy.  She  went  to  Gounod's  school  and  asked 
the  professor  "for  Heaven's  sake"  to  "get  that  musical 
idea  out  of  his  head." 

"Aha!  little  Charles,"  said  the  professor  next  day, 
"so  you  wish  to  become  ft  musician?" 

"Yes." 

"Ah!  but  you  do  not  think  what  that  means!  To  be 
a  musician  amounts  to  nothing  in  the  world." 

"Nothing!"  said  the  child,  astonished.  "Is  it  noth- 
ing to  be  a  Mozart,  Weber,  Meyerbeer,  Rossini?" 

"Peste!  mon  gargon!  But  at  your  age  Mozart  had 
done  some  great  things.  What  have  you  done?  What 
can  you  do?  Here!  show  me  what  you  can  do" — as  he 
scribbled  on  a  piece  of  paper  the  words  of  the  romance 
of  Joseph  from  Mehul's  opera,  then  famous,  of  that 
name.  "Put  music  to  that,"  said  the  professor.  "See 
if  you  can  do  as  well  as  Mehul.  As  for  Mozart — there's 
still  time." 

The  song  was  written  during  the  recreation  period. 
Gounod  took  it  to  the  principal. 

"What  is  it,  my  child?" 

"Mv  song  is  finished." 

"What,  already?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Let  us  see.     Sing  it  to  me." 

"I  sang,"  says  Gounod  in  his  memoirs,  "and  when 
I  had  finished  I  turned  timidly  about  to  face  my  judge. 
His  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  He  drew  me  to  his  heart 
and  said,  'It  is  beautiful,  beautiful,  my  boy.  ...  Be  a 
musician,  then,  since  the  devil  pushes  you  to  it.  It's 
no  use  to  fight  against  that ! ' ' 

Gounod  entered  the  Paris  Conservatoire,  where  he 
13  161 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

studied  with  a  number  of  the  best  teachers  of  the  day, 
and  where  Cherubim  directed  his  attention  to  sacred 
composition  and  the  music  of  Palestrina.  Gounod's 
mother  was  fearful  when  the  time  came  for  the  drawing 
of  lots  for  the  military  conscription.  Gounod  comforted 
her.  "Never  fear,  I  will  secure  exemption  by  winning 
the  Prix  de  Rome." 

He  won  the  second  prize  in  1837.  His  cantata, 
"Fernand,"  brought  him  the  Grand  Prize  two  years  later. 

In  Rome  Gounod  encountered  two  women  who  were 
to  be  potent  influences  in  his  life.  One  was  the  great 
singer,  Pauline  Viardot-Garcia,  an  artist  whose  nature 
and  intellectual  gifts  drew  about  her  the  greatest  minds 
of  the  day.  She  was  so  taken  with  Gounod's  talent  and 
personality  that  she  promised  to  remember  and  help 
him  whenever  she  could.  It  was,  in  fact,  Madame 
Garcia  who  at  a  later  day  introduced  Gounod  as  an 
opera-composer  to  the  world.  The  other  woman  was 
Mrs.  Henselt,  who  had  been,  before  she  married,  Fanny 
Mendelssohn,  sister  of  the  composer,  and  the  unnamed 
creator  of  a  number  of  the  "Songs  Without  Words." 
A  warm  friendship  grew  up  between  the  two  which 
developed  on  Gounod's  side,  at  least,  into  a  sentiment 
more  intense.  The  parting  for  him  was  bitter. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  he  turned  to  religion.  The 
arrival  of  an  ecclesiast  who  had  also  been  a  personal 
friend  of  Gounod's  in  Paris  strengthened  him  in  his 
determination  to  enter  the  Church.  He  talked  of  little 
else.  He  studied  in  monasteries  and  missions.  His 
letter-heads  were  those  of  the  Missions  des  Strangers, 
engraved  with  two  bleeding  hearts  surmounted  by  a 
crown  of  thorns.  It  was  not  until  Madame  Garcia  was 
approached  by  a  manager  of  a  Parisian  theater  who  de- 
sired her  to  appear  a  number  of  times  in  opera  that 
Gounod  came  from  his  retirement.  This  new  opera, 

known  as  "Sapho,"  was  not  over-successful,  either  in 

162 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

1851  or  when  it  was  revised  thirty  years  later,  but  it 
launched  Gounod  on  his  career.  It  Was  followed  by  two 
unsuccessful  grand  operas,  and  then  by  an  opera  comique, 
"Le  Medecin  Malgre  Lui"  (1858),  which  is  full  of 
charming  music  and  too  little  known  to-day.  Then 
came  "Faust,"  the  libretto  by  Barbier  and  Carre,  first 
performed  at  the  Theatre  Lyrique,  March  19,  1859. 
The  opera  presents  but  one  episode  of  Goethe's  master- 
piece— the  episode  of  the  love  of  Faust  and  Marguerite, 
which  is  the  most  human  and  least  philosophic  aspect 
of  the  work. 

The  scenes  of  this  opera  are  so  familiar  that  they 
need  not  be  described  in  detail.  Those  with  a  passion 
for  statistics — there  are  such  even  in  music — have 
reckoned  that  the  musical  score  contains  more  melody 
to  the  square  inch  than  that  of  any  other  opera. 

In  the  air  sung  by  Valentine  (Act  II),  departing  for 
war,  he  commends  his  sister,  Marguerite,  to  the  care  of 
the  boy  Siebel,  who  adores  her.  This  air  was  not  in  the 
original  score,  but  was  composed  by  Gounod  for  the 
barytone,  Charles  Santley,  when  "Faust"  was  first  per- 
formed in  London,  June  11,  1863. 

"  Dio  Possente  "   ("  Even  bravest  heart  ") 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari  Columbia    Record    49214 

Sung  by  Henri  Scott  Columbia  Record  A  5877 

Mephistopheles,  who  appears  as  Faust's  traveling-com- 
panion in  the  market-place,  sings  the  sardonic  couplets, 
"The  Caff  of  Gold" — that  calf,  he  says,  before  which 
all  men,  the  great  and  the  lowly,  bow  in  abject  servility. 

"  Dio  dell'  or  "   ("  The  Calf  of  Gold  ") 
Sung  by  Jose  Mardones 
Columbia  Record  A  847 

The  same  record  (A  847)  has  on  its  reverse  side  the 
music  of  one  of  the  most  dramatic  scenes  in  the  opera — 

163 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

that  in  which  Marguerite,  kneeling  in  the  cathedral 
imploring  pardon  from  on  high,  is  taunted  by  the  ter- 
rible voice  of  the  invisible  fiend,  threatening  her  with 
eternal  torment. 

In  an  ardent  song  Faust  (Act  III,  Scene  1),  led  by 
Mephistopheles  into  the  garden  of  Marguerite,  salutes 
reverently  the  chaste  dwelling  of  her  whom  he  adores. 
This  is  one  of  Gounod's  most  celebrated  arias. 

"Salve!   dimora  "  ("Hail,  chaste  dwelling!") 

Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro  Columbia    Record    48782 

Sung  by  Florencio  Constantino  Columbia  Record  A  5204 

The  Soldiers'  Chorus  (Act  IV,  Scene  1)  is  heard 
when  Valentine  returns  at  the  head  of  his  troops  from 
the  wars.  This  chorus  was  not  composed  as  a  part  of 
the  score  of  "Faust,"  but  was  taken  from  an  earlier  and 
uncompleted  opera  of  Gounod's,  "Ivan,  the  Terrible." 

Soldiers'  Chorus  from  "  Faust  " 
Played  by  Prince's  Band 
Columbia  Record  A  1493 

The  ballet-music,  considered  in  Gounod's  time  one  of 
the  finest  pages  of  the  opera,  displays  effectively  Gou- 
nod's melodious  style  and  his  effective  use  of  the  or- 
chestra. This  ballet  occurs  between  the  fourth  and  fifth 
acts.  The  scene  is  the  Vale  of  Tempe  (the  only  refer- 
ence to  the  second  part  of  Goethe's  poem  made  in  the 
opera).  Faust,  Mephistopheles,  Helen  of  Troy,  and 
many  figures  of  Greek  myth  are  seen.  Faust  is  startled 
by  a  vision  of  Marguerite. 

Ballet  Music  from  "  Faust  " 

Played  by  Metropolitan  Opera  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6041 

Mephistopheles  insolently  tunes  his  guitar  before  the 
dwelling  of  Marguerite  and  mockingly  hints  at  her  ruin. 

164 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

His  satanic  laughter  is  one  of  the  notable  effects  of  this 
song. 

Mephistopheles'  Serenade 
Sung  by  Jose  Mardones 
Columbia  Record  A  5200 

The  manner  in  which  "Faust"  has  kept  the  stage  for 
over  half  a  century  is  testimony  to  the  solid  value  as 
well  as  the  melodic  beauty  of  the  opera.  Not  only  in 
France,  but  in  every  land,  with  every  public,  educated 
and  uneducated,  rich  and  poor,  it  has  held  its  own. 
Gounod,  French  to  the  pith,  nevertheless  studied  care- 
fully many  operas  of  different  periods  and  schools. 
"Faust"  was  created  when  he  had  grown  to  his  full 
height  as  a  composer  and  learned,  through  many  fail- 
ures, how  to  write  in  a  finished  and  effective  manner  for 
the  stage.  The  workmanship  and  inspiration  shown  in 
certain  scenes  are  really  past  praise — for  example,  the 
garden  scene,  with  its  sweeping  climax,  as  Marguerite 
cries  out  her  love  to  the  stars,  then  throws  herself  into 
Faust's  arms!  The  writing  for  the  voices,  the  richness 
and  refinement  of  the  instrumentation,  are  still  models 
to  be  studied  with  the  utmost  care.  Yet  there  was  dis- 
trust of  this  work  in  rehearsal  and  on  the  part  of  pub- 
lishers, and  when  Gounod  lay  dying  there  was  a  long- 
haired melomaniac  who,  being  refused  admittance,  beat 
frantically  on  the  door,  anxious  to  assure  the  man  whose 
life  was  ebbing  that  "Faust"  was  a  poor  thing  which 
would  not  outlive  its  day! 

"Mireille"  (1864),  originally  a  tragedy  in  five  acts, 
later  reduced  to  three  acts,  with  a  happy  ending,  was 
based  on  a  poem  of  Frederic  Mistral,  written  in  the  Pro- 
vengal  dialect.  The  joyous  waltz  song  was  not  in  the 
original  version  of  the  opera,  but  was  interpolated  in  the 
later  edition.  It  is  found  in  the  first  act.  Its  rather 
silly  text  is  set  to  a  charming  melody. 

165 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

"  Waltz  Song  ('  Rondinella  Leggiera  ')  from  '  Mireille  '  " 

Sung  by  Maria  Barrientos 

Columbia  Record  48650 

Gounod's  most  popular  opera,  after  "Faust,"  was 
undoubtedly  "Romeo  and  Juliet,"  the  libretto  by  Bar- 
bier  and  Carre  from  Shakespeare's  tragedy.  This  work 
was  produced  at  the  Theatre  Lyrique,  Paris,  April  27, 
1867.  The  music  has  less  depth  and  originality  than 
that  of  "Faust,"  but  certain  airs  have  a  pleasing  gaiety 
or  lyrical  fervor  typical  of  Gounod's  talent. 

Thus  the  brilliant  song  of  Juliet,  as  she  enters  the  ball- 
room of  the  Capulets.  The  lights,  the  company,  the 
festivities  of  the  occasion,  excite  her.  She  has  not  yet 
seen  Romeo.  She  knows  only  that  she  is  young  and 
beautiful,  that  life  is  full  of  wonder,  that  every  to-morrow 
has  a  promise  more  thrilling  than  the  wonder  of  to-day. 
That  is  the  theme  of  Gounod's  gay  music. 

Waltz  Song,  "  Je  veux  vivre  "  ("  I  would  live  ") 
Sung  by  Florence  Macbeth 
.Columbia  Record  A  6163 

In  his  later  years  Gounod  turned  almost  entirely  to 
the  composition  of  religious  music.  His  most  famous 
production  in  this  vein,  indeed  one  of  the  most  popular 
melodies  he  composed,  is  his  "Ave  Maria."  An  inter- 
esting peculiarity  of  this  work  is  that  only  the  melody  is 
original  with  Gounod.  The  accompaniment  is  note  for 
note  the  first  prelude  of  J.  S.  Bach's  (1685-1750)  "Well- 
tempered  Clavichord."  Hence  the  saying  that  Bach, 
more  than  a  hundred  years  before  Gounod,  wrote  the 
accompaniment  for  the  latter's  "Ave  Maria"! 

"  Ave  Maria  " 

Sung  by  Lucy  Gates 

Columbia  Record  A  5981 

When  the  Franco-Prussian  War  broke  out  Gounod, 
far  beyond  military  age,  went  to  London.  It  was  there 

166 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

that  he  composed  his  very  popular  piece,  "Funeral 
March  of  a  Marionette."  It  is  said  that  the  piece  was 
suggested  to  him  by  the  eccentric  gait  of  the  English 
critic  Chorley,  a  frequent  visitor  at  Gounod's  house; 
that  Gounod's  pupils,  delighted  with  the  burlesque, 
besought  the  composer  to  put  it  on  paper.  This  fanciful 
program  has  been  attached  to  the  composition: 

A  marionette  has  been  killed  in  a  duel.  The  funeral 
procession  sets  forth.  The  troupe  converse  about  the 
vicissitudes  of  life  and  reflect  sadly  that  it  required  but 
one  fairly  hard  knock  on  the  nose  to  end  the  career  of 
so  talented  an  artist.  It  is  midsummer.  Some  of  the 
troupe  begin  to  find  the  way  long  and  wearisome. 
They  stop  to  slake  their  thirst  at  a  roadside  tavern. 
The  refreshment-takers  enter  into  various  details  touch- 
ing the  qualities  of  the  defunct.  They  forget  that  the 
funeral  procession  has  nearly  reached  the  gates  of  the 
cemetery.  They  resolve  to  rejoin  it,  avoiding,  however, 
all  appearance  of  undignified  haste.  They  fall  into 
their  places  and  enter  the  cemetery  to  the  same  phrase 
as  the  one  at  the  beginning  of  the  march. 

"  Funeral  March  of  a  Marionette  " 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6052 

Other  compositions  of  Gounod  which  have  found  wide 
popularity  are  his  charming  song  to  words  of  Victor 
Hugo  bearing  the  English  title,  "Sing,  smile,  slumber," 
and  various  compositions  of  sacred  music. 

"  Sing,  smile,  slumber  " 

Sung  by  Lucy  Gates 
Columbia  Record  A  5981 

Among  his  sacred  compositions  in  larger  forms  are  the 
cantata,  "Gallia,"  a  biblical  elegy  for  the  country 
defeated  in  1870,  performed  at  the  International  Exhibi- 

167 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

tion  held  in  England  in  1871,  when  composers  of  England, 
Italy,  and  Germany  were  also  represented;  "The 
Redemption,"  sacred  trilogy  composed  for  the  Birming- 
ham Festival  of  1882,  and  dedicated  to  Queen  Victoria; 
and  a  second  sacred  trilogy,  "Mors  et  Vita,"  composed 
for  the  Birmingham  Festival  of  1885.  Both  these  lat- 
ter works  were  sold  to  Novello  for  twenty  thousand 
dollars  each.  Thus  Gounod  was  successful  in  a  worldly 
as  well  as  an  artistic  sense. 

Gounod  was  very  popular  in  London.  It  was  there 
that  he  formed  the  historic  friendship  for  Mrs.  Weldon, 
a  fashionable  woman  who  inhabited  a  house  in  Tavistock 
Square.  Some  said  she  was  beautiful,  others  that  she 
was  the  worst-dressed  woman  in  town.  After  a  long 
and  intimate  acquaintance  the  two  suddenly  parted  and 
Gounod  returned  to  Paris.  Mrs.  Weldon  separated  from 
her  husband,  lost  her  money,  and  became  a  music- 
teacher.  No  doubt  she  boasted  that  she  knew  the 
traditions  of  Gounod's  music.  In  want,  she  presented 
a  board  bill  for  the  three  years  during  which  she  had 
entertained  Gounod  as  the  lion  of  her  receptions,  and 
in  1884  an  English  jury  awarded  her  the  amount  of 
fifty  thousand  dollars  for  her  services  "as  secretary, 
business  agent,  and  landlady"! 

May  Byron  paid  Gounod  a  visit  in  his  apartments  at 
Paris.  He  lived  in  a  corner  of  the  Boulevard  Male- 
sherbes  in  a  three-story  building  inhabited  by  himself, 
his  married  daughter,  his  sister-in-law,  and  his  son  Jean 
with  his  family.  Gounod  wore  a  black- velvet  jacket 
and  skullcap,  talked  delightfully,  was  obviously  and 
unaffectedly  fond  of  praise,  and  very  sensitive  to  "ad- 
verse criticism."  His  workroom,  study,  library,  recep- 
tion-room —  they  were  all  in  one  —  was  paneled  and 
vaulted  in  oak,  lighted  by  stained-glass  windows,  and 
fitted  with  Persian  rugs,  "small  antique  tables,  divans 
and  sofas  in  abundance."  The  composer  was  hospitality 

168 


THE   LURE    OF   MUSIC 

itself.  There  was  felt  "an  indefinable  atmosphere  of 
warmth,  tenderness,  and  trust."  The  old  man  was  de- 
voted to  his  grandchildren.  Gounod  warmly  espoused 
the  works  of  some  contemporaries,  while  for  men  like 
Berlioz  and  Wagner  he  had  little  praise.  He  said  of 
Berlioz  that  he  was  "a  musical  nature  that  lost  its 
balance";  of  Bizet,  "a  charming  musician";  of  Wagner, 
"a  wonderful  prodigy,  an  aberration  of  genius;  a  vision- 
ary, haunted  by  all  that  is  colossal." 

Gounod  could  not  have  been  sincere  and  have  said 
anything  else.  He  was  not  a  revolutionist  in  the  radical 
sense  of  the  word.  He  was  rather  one  to  invest  with 
fresh  interest  the  forms  ready  to  his  hand.  He  was  far 
from  content,  however,  with  recognized  and  estab- 
lished traditions,  and  there  were  not  lacking  those  who 
saw  dangerous  things  in  his  music.  "Faust,"  one  of  the 
best  constructed  operas  in  existence,  impresses  us,  above 
all,  by  its  personal  quality.  It  is  not  a  composer  on  dress 
parade  before  an  audience  who  is  talking,  but  Gounod, 
and  none  other.  Faust,  Valentine,  Marguerite — they 
all  sing  with  the  same  voice;  they  all  express  the  senti- 
mental soul  of  the  celebrated  Frenchman.  "Faust"  is 
the  most  enduring  expression  of  a  talent  which  stands 
out  significantly  in  the  history  of  French  music. 

Gounod  lived  to  see  the  five-hundredth  performance 
of  his  master-work,  and  to  be  decorated  with  the  Cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  He  died  October  18,  1893. 


JACQUES  OFFENBACH 

FEW  of  us,  as  we  watch  the  diverting  scenes  and  listen 
to  the  sparkling  melodies  of  "  The  Tales  of  Hoff- 
man," realize  that  this  work  is  the  expression  of  a 
life's  tragedy. 

Jacques  Offenbach,  the  son  of  a  Jewish  cantor,  came 
to  Paris  in  1833,  aged  seventeen,  lugging  under  his  arm 
a  violoncello  as  big  as  himself,  and  determined  to  make 
his  fortune  in  the  glittering  capital.  When  he  had  sat 
in  the  'cello  class  of  Professor  Vaslin,  at  the  Conserva- 
toire, for  one  year,  he  decided  to  move  on;  for  he  was 
impatient  of  restraint,  of  the  gradual  acquirement  of 
knowledge,  and  felt  in  his  heart  that  he  had  in  him  the 
material  of  success. 

Offenbach,  darting  about,  found  a  position  as  'cellist 
in  the  orchestra  of  the  Opera  Comique.  There  he  learned 
more  about  opera  and  composing  for  the  theater  than 
his  teachers  could  ever  have  taught  him.  They  were  in- 
tent on  making  a  respectable  musician  of  him.  But 
respectability  was  not  a  part  of  Offenbach's  make-up. 
It  was,  in  fact,  the  butt  of  all  those  indescribable  jokes 
with  which  he  sprinkled  the  pages  of  the  dozens  of 
operettas  he  was  to  compose.  The  years  flew  by,  and 
he  mounted  and  was  thrown  forward  on  a  wave  of  popu- 
larity which  constantly  grew  in  its  proportions  and  the 
momentum  with  which  it  advanced.  Offenbach  ac- 
quired a  theater  for  himself,  a  cozy  little  theater  of 
charming  and  somewhat  indiscreet  decorations  in  the 
Champs-Elysees,  which  he  named  the  Bouffes  Parisiens. 
And  there  he  did  his  worst!  To  that  little  theater 

170 


OFFENBACH,  1819-1880 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

came  all  the  world,  to  laugh  with  unbuttoned  laughter 
at  things  which  no  one  should  have  laughed  at,  to  hear 
the  latest  of  those  wonderful  melodies  that  Offenbach 
had  but  to  shake  from  his  sleeve.  These  tunes  had  this 
quality  in  common  with  our  "popular  music"  of  to-day — 
that  they  immediately  "caught  on."  They  were  on 
every  tongue,  and  even  little  children  lisped  airs  and 
words  of  which,  in  the  majority  of  cases — and  fortu- 
nately— they  seldom  realized  the  full  meaning.  But 
unlike  our  popular  music,  there  was  in  most  of  these 
airs  a  real  art  quality,  a  grace,  a  spirit — the  French 
word  esprit  is  a  more  truly  descriptive  adjective — which 
caused  them  to  live  as  well  as  to  sing. 

So  it  went  on!  A  veritable  madness,  says  the  present 
dean  of  French  composers,  Camille  Saint-Saens,  seemed 
to  have  come  over  the  human  race.  Monarchs  on  their 
way  to  Paris  wired  ahead  for  a  box  at  the  Bouffes 
Parisiens.  The  society  of  the  day  was  lax  and  its 
ideals  low.  The  populace  asked  only  to  be  amused. 
The  jaded  boulevardiers  of  the  period,  the  politicians 
in  the  intervals  of  their  plotting,  sat  at  the  feet  of 
Offenbach,  who,  alas!  too  often  debased  his  God-given 
talent  for  the  sake  of  the  moment  and  its  gold. 

In  the  space  of  thirty  years  he  produced  some  ninety 
operettas.  Many  of  them,  still  popular  in  Europe,  won 
favor  in  part  deserved  by  their  real  beauties,  their 
touches  of  humor,  tenderness,  or  dramatic  characteriza- 
tion, and  most  emphatically  undeserved  by  their  super- 
ficialities and  the  mad  haste  of  the  opportunist  by 
whom  they  were  composed. 

Both  these  characteristics  are  present  in  the  melo- 
dJous  and  lively  overture  to  "Orpheus  in  Hades"  (1858). 

Overture  to  "  Orpheus  in  Hades  "  ("  Orphee  aux  Enfers  ") 

Cincinnati  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6140 

171 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

There  were  singers  in  those  days,  and  Offenbach 
had  the  devil's  own  nose  for  finding  the  man  or  woman 
who  would  set  an  audience  on  fire.  But  at  the  bottom 
a  tender-hearted  and  idealistic  man,  with  a  desire  for 
the  better  as  well  as  the  more  showy  things  of  life,  he 
knew  that  he  was  not  fulfilling  his  destiny.  He  was 
amusing  a  frivolous  people  for  whose  approval  he  cared 
little  or  nothing.  He  owed  it  to  himself  to  be  great. 
As  the  years  sped  by  and  the  gold  rolled  in,  one  ambi- 
tion grew  up  in  his  heart.  He  longed  to  be  taken  seri- 
ously. He  longed  to  produce  one  work  which  would 
assure  him  a  lasting  position  in  the  Hall  of  Fame. 

That  work  was  "The  Tales  of  Hoffmann"  ("Contes 
d'Hoffmann  ") .  The  sketches  of  the  new  opera  were  com- 
plete, in  the  musical  shorthand  that  Offenbach  employed 
when  his  ideas  came  faster  than  he  could  write  them 
down,  and  he  was  coaching  the  singers,  with  some  of 
whom  he  had  difficulty  because  they  suspected  him  of 
having  the  evil  eye,  when  he  was  forced  to  take  to  his 
bed.  He  had  with  him  his  dog,  whom  he  had  named, 
after  a  song  in  "The  Tales  of  Hoffmann,"  Kleinzach. 
"Alas,  poor  Kleinzach,"  he  said,  "I'd  give  all  I  have  if 
you  and  I  could  be  at  the  first  performance."  On  his 
death-bed  Offenbach  gave  the  last  directions  about  the 
orchestration  of  his  master- work  to  his  friend,  Ernst 
Guiraud,  and  thus  enjoining  him  passed  away. 

The  story  of  this  opera  is  one  of  the  most  curious 
and  original  in  the  literature  of  music-drama,  and  most 
strangely  symbolic  of  Offenbach's  career.  For  Hoff- 
mann, too,  is  a  man  who  chases  delusions  and  whose 
footsteps,  throughout  tys  life,  are  dogged  by  a  mys- 
terious and  unkind  fate.  Pursuing  the  ideal  woman — 
the  opera  is  a  recital  of  his  loves — he  fancies  he  sees  her 
in  different  forms,  only  to  draw  back  after  each  of  his 
experiences,  crushed  by  the  disillusionment  of  reality. 
At  last  the  Muse  of  art  speaks  to  Hoffmann,  of  the  one 

172 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

love  that  will  bring  him  happiness — love  of  that  which 
his  genius  was  given  him  to  serve. 

The  librettists  pieced  their  story  together  out  of  the 
fantastical  tales  of  E.  T.  A.  Hoffmann.  The  opera, 
unusually  constructed,  is  in  a  prologue,  three  acts,  and  an 
epilogue.  Hoffmann  is  first  seen  sitting  among  fellow- 
students.  Distrait,  melancholy,  he  answers  their  raillery 
by  offering  to  tell  the  story  of  the  women  whom  he  has 
loved.  "The  name  of  the  first,"  he  says,  "was  Olympia." 

Olympia'  was  a  dancing-doll  whom  Hoffmann,  an  in- 
experienced and  credulous  youth,  believed  to  be  a  real 
woman.  The  doll  says,  "Yes,"  "No,"  dances  and  sings. 

Her  arms  move  rigidly  up  and  down.  There  is  in- 
tentional stiffness  in  her  sparkling,  melodious,  mechan- 
ical song — the  doll,  warbling  her  pretty  but  meaningless 
lay,  with  its  fixed  rhythm,  its  angular  intervals;  a  most 
ingenious  and  effective  bit  of  musical  characterization. 

Doll's  Song,  from  "  Tales  of  Hoffmann  " 

Sung  by  Lucy  Gates 
Columbia  Record  A  3326 

Hoffmann  only  comes  to  his  senses  when  Coppelius,  the 
evil -eyed  inventor  of  the  doll  that  has  played  such  havoc 
with  his  heart,  smashes  the  automaton  in  a  rage.  His 
dream  of  youth  and  love  has  also  been  shattered. 

In  the  second  act  Hoffmann,  with  the  passions  of  an 
older  man,  woos  the  superb  Giulietta,  courtesan  of 
Venice.  This  situation  inspired  the  celebrated  barca- 
rolle, a  melody  of  the  simplest  kind,  made  of  the  soft 
Venetian  night,  the  magic  of  the  moonlight  on  the 
lagoons,  the  poetry  and  romance  of  the  hour.  The 
barcarolle  is  sung  as  a  duet  by  Giulietta  and  Hoffmann's 
servant,  Nicklausse  (the  part  taken  by  a  woman  in 
man's  costume),  as  the  scene — a  terrace,  with  Hoffmann 
at  the  feet  of  Giulietta — is  disclosed. 

173 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Barcarolle:   "Radiant  Night"  from  ''Tales  of  Hoffmann" 
Sung  by  Rosa  and  Carmela  Ponselle  Columbia  Record  78846 

Played  by  Cincinnati  Symphony  Orchestra       Columbia  Record  A  5966 
Played  by  Mery  Zentay,  violinist  Columbia  Record  A  2503 

This  is  not  the  only  appearance  of  the  barcarolle. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  act  it  provides  what  is  called 
in  artistic  phraseology  "atmosphere."  At  the  end  it  is 
heard  again,  but  with  a  terrible  and  tragic  significance. 
Behind  Giulietta,  in  her  shadow,  as  it  were,  stands  a 
silent  and  ominous  figure  in  a  black  costume,  felt  as  a 
presence,  rather  than  perceived,  at  first,  as  a  man. 
This  is  Dapertutto,  the  magician,  who  is  spoken  of 
as  "a  soldier  of  fortune."  Giulietta  is  his  slave.  She 
is  to  secure  for  him  the  soul  of  Hoffman  by  imprisoning 
his  image  in  a  magic  mirror.  Dapertutto  voices  his 
malevolent  thoughts  in  the  following  air: 

"  Tourne,  tourne,  miroir  "   ("Turn,  mirror,  turn  **) 
Sung  by  Hector  Ehifranne 
Columbia  Record  A  5444 

At  Giulietta's  instigation,  Hoffman  fights  and  kills 
her  lover,  Schlemil.  Victorious,  he  seeks  Giulietta.  only 
to  see  her  reclining  in  the  arms  of  another.  To  the 
ironical  lilt  of  the  barcarolle,  and  the  laughter  of  the 
faithless  woman,  the  curtain  falls. 

Most  pathetic  and  disheartening  of  all  these  strange 
incidents  of  Hoffman's  career  is  his  third  and  last  love- 
affair.  Antonia,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  Crespel,  is 
under  a  sinister  fate.  Her  mother,  a  singer,  died 
of  consumption.  Antonia's  lungs  are  impaired,  and 
Crespel,  her  father,  knows  that  if  she  sings  she,  too, 
will  die.  Crespel  is  hostile  to  the  love  of  Hoffman  for 
his  daughter.  He  has  fled  with  her  from  city  to  city. 
He  has  been  pursued,  not  only  by  Hoffman,  but  also 
by  the  fiendish  Doctor  Miracle.  A  singular  being! 
His  face  is  like  a  death's  head.  His  attire,  in  Offen- 

174 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

bach's  original  conception — sometimes  altered  on  the 
stage  to-day — is  that  of  a  greasy  quack  doctor.  If  you 
met  him  on  the  street,  you  would  dismiss  him  as  a 
crafty  and  dishonest  patent -medicine  man.  But  look  a 
little  closer,  and  you  will  recoil  from  the  evil  that  leaps 
from  those  eyes !  Miracle  professes  concern  for  Antonia. 
In  a  terrifying  scene  he  grasps  a  fiddle,  saws  on  it  wildly, 
and  commands  the  girl  to  sing.  As  she  obeys,  she  dies. 
In  the  epilogue  the  students  who  surround  Hoffman 
remark  on  the  strangeness  of  his  adventures,  and  depart 
to  drink  elsewhere.  Hoffman,  who  is  awaiting  Stella, 
a  singer  in  a  neighboring  theater,  falls  a  prey  to 
curious  fancies.  Is  it  not  strange  that  the  inventor 
Copelius,  the  magician  Dapertutto,  and  Doctor  Miracle 
seem  in  retrospect  to  have  had  very  much  the  same 
type  of  features?  Was  it  one  or  was  it  many  who  pur- 
sued him  to  his  ruin?  Were  any  of  these  people  real 
men?  Did  the  women  actually  live?  Did  he  love  them, 
or  was  it  all  but  a  troubled  dream?  And  what  is  life  it- 
self? Is  it  a  dream?  A  truce  to  thought,  and  another 
drink!  Stella,  entering,  finds  Hoffman  in  a  stupor  with 
his  head  on  the  table.  Hoffman's  rival,  the  crafty  Lin- 
dorf ,  has  been  watching  like  a  spider  in  his  corner.  Singu- 
lar to  relate,  his  face  seems  to  bear  a  resemblance  to  the 
faces  of  Coppelius,  Dapertutto,  and  Miracle!  With  a 
sigh  and  a  backward  glance,  the  frail  Stella  departs  on 
the  arm  of  Lindorf,  and  with  this  final  betrayal  of  the 
unfortunate  dreamer,  who  is  nevertheless,  in  his  slumber, 
possessed  of  a  fairer  vision  than  any  mortal  woman  could 
embody,  the  curtain  falls. 

Such  was  the  opera  in  which  Offenbach,  consciously 
or  otherwise,  epitomized  his  own  career. 
14 


LEO   DELIBES 

A  GREAT  composer  dawns  on  the  world.  His  art 
is  attacked  by  many,  supported  by  a  few.  Lesser 
lights  gather  about  his  standard  or  flock  to  the 
opposition.  Critics  quarrel  The  gutters  run  with  ink. 
The  public  looks  on  with  wonder  and  delight,  and  goes 
its  way.  By  and  by  the  dust  of  the  battle  settles  and 
from  the  cloud  certain  figures  emerge  to  remain  with 
us  and  smile  through  the  years.  Among  these  are  fre- 
quently composers  not  of  the  first,  but  of  the  second 
rank;  men  of  true  talent,  but  not  deceived  about  them- 
selves, not  hitching  their  wagons  to  too  high  a  star; 
anxious  to  give  the  best  that  is  in  them  to  their  art; 
humble  in  its  presence;  happy  in  its  service,  A  com- 
poser of  this  kind  and  rank  is  that  master  of  delicious 
ballet  music,  Leo  Delibes. 

To  Delibes  the  ballet  was  not  a  series  of  hackneyed 
evolutions,  but  a  poem,  a  dream  of  the  most  delicate 
beauty.  He  was  a  musical  descendant  of  a  long  line 
of  ballet-composers  whose  art  in  France  had  antedated 
the  opera  itself.  He  could  trace  his  inheritance  far 
back  to  Lulli  of  the  sixteenth  century,  with  his  powder 
and  his  pomp,  his  stately,  formal  music  which  amused 
an  idle  king.  Delibes  learned  much  in  turn  from  his 
master  in  composition,  Adolph  Adam,  composer  of  such 
exquisite  scores  as  that  of  the  ballet,  "Ghiselle,"  and 
from  other  men  of  Adam's  period — Herold,  Auber, 
Boieldieu — all  masters  in  miniature,  men  who  held, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  that  the  mission  of  music  was  not 
to  instruct  or  edify,  but  to  delight. 

176 


DELIBES,    1836-1891 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Delibes,  born  at  St.-Germain-du-Val,  February  21, 
1836,  came  to  Paris  in  his  tenth  year.  He  was  succes- 
sively choir-boy  at  the  Madeleine,  a  pupil  of  many 
honors  at  the  Conservatoire,  accompanist  at  the  Theatre 
Lyrique,  and  second  chorus-master  at  the  Opera.  Per- 
rin,  the  stage-director,  convinced  of  his  talent,  com- 
missioned him  to  compose  music  for  a  ballet,  "La 
Source,"  in  collaboration  with  a  Polish  composer, 
Minkous.  The  second  and  third  tableaux  of  this  ballet 
were  composed  by  Delibes.  It  was  performed  at  the 
Opera,  November  12,  1866.  Later  it  was  given  in 
Vienna  under  the  title  of  "Naila,  die  Quellen  Fee" 
("Naila,  the  Water  Nymph").  In  this  early  music  the 
delicate  beauty  and  the  fanciful  charm  of  Delibes's  com- 
posing are  already  shown. 

"  Circassian  Dance  "  from  "  La  Source  "  ("  The  Spring  ") 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  1227 

Intermezzo  from  "  Naila  "  ("  La  Source  ") 

Played  by  the  Cincinnati  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6189 

The  audience  preferred  the  music  of  Delibes  to  that 
of  Minkous,  with  whom  he  had  been  associated  as  a 
favor,  and  Delibes  was  finally  intrusted  with  the  setting 
of  an  entire  ballet,  "Coppelia,"  which  proved  one  of 
his  greatest  works.  The  scenario  of  this  ballet  was  dis- 
tantly derived  from  the  story  of  old  Coppelius,  the  toy- 
maker,  the  magician,  who  figures  in  the  tales  of  the 
romantic  writer,  E.  T.  A.  Hoffmann,  and  also  hi  the 
first  act  of  Offenbach's  celebrated  opera.  The  ballet 
has  two  acts.  The  story  is  a  tiny  thread  which  serves 
to  introduce  many  graceful  and  diverting  dances. 

"  Waltz  of  the  Hours  "  from  "  Coppelia  " 
Played  by  the  Cincinnati  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  5943 
177 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

"Sylvia,"  or  "The  Nymph  of  Diana,"  was  performed 
on  the  same  stage  on  the  14th  of  June,  1876.  The 
scenario  of  the  old  pastoral  kind,  which  had  years  ago 
delighted  the  gay  courts  of  French  kings,  was  based 
on  Tasso's  poem,  "Aminta,"  a  poem  of  Arcadia,  an  im- 
possible land  where  nymphs,  shepherdesses,  fauns,  satyrs, 
and  goddesses  run  about  in  engaging  attire. 

Characteristic  of  the  grace  and  charming  instrumenta- 
tion of  Delibes  are  the  piquant  "Les  Chasseuresses " 
("The  Huntresses")  and  the  festive  "Cortege  de 
Bacchus"  ("Procession  of  Bacchus"). 

"  Les  Chasseuresses  "  and  "  Cortege  de  Bacchus  " 

Played  by  the  French  Symphony  Orchestra 

(Societe  des  Concerts  du  Conservatoire) 

Columbia  Record  A  6090 

It  was  truly  remarked  by  contemporaneous  critics 
that  Delibes  had  been  almost  the  first  to  write  ballet 
music  which,  while  it  fitted  the  stage  situation  exactly 
and  gave  the  dancers  the  most  agreeable  opportunities, 
also  stood  by  itself  on  the  concert  platform.  So  with 
the  music  of  "Sylvia,"  which  has  long  held  an  honorable 
place  on  orchestral  programs. 

Delibes  produced  many  operettas,  songs,  choral  works, 
and  two  operas  comiques,  "Jean  de  Nivelle"  and 
"Lakme1,"  produced  at  the  Opera  Comique,  April  14, 
1883.  The  book  of  "Lakme,"  by  Goudinet  and  Gille, 
was  founded  on  the  story,  "Le  Mariage  de  Loti"  ("The 
Marriage  of  Loti'').  The  scene  is  India  under  English 
rule.  Gerald  and  Frederick,  young  officers,  are  wander- 
ing about  with  friends,  when  Gerald,  stopping  to  sketch 
a  scene  in  front  of  a  Brahmin  temple,  sees  Lakme,  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  Nilakantha.  Love  at  first  sight! 
Nilakantha,  enraged,  stabs  the  Englishman.  In  the 
forest  Lakme  nurses  Gerald,  who  is  badly  wounded. 
Gerald  is  inclined  to  think  the  world  well  lost  for  love, 
and  Lakme  has  departed  in  search  of  a  drug  which,  ac- 

178 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

cording  to  Indian  legend,  makes  love  eternal,  when 
Frederick  appears  on  the  scene,  reminds  Gerald  of  his 
duty  to  his  queen  and  of  the  fact  that  he  is  engaged  to  a 
lady  in  England.  Gerald  departs,  and  Lakme,  in  despair, 
poisons  herself  with  an  herb  that  grows  in  the  forest. 

The  music  of  this  work  is  not  "deep,"  but  it  has  a 
charming  and  unique  color.  There  is  in  it  something 
of  the  exotic  beauty  and  fantasy  of  the  designs  one 
might  see  on  an  Oriental  fan  or  object  of  art,  a  work 
not  to  be  taken  too  seriously,  but  to  be  enjoyed. 

The  "Bell  Song"  derives  its  name  because  of  the  com- 
poser's use  of  bells  to  characterize  the  appearance  of 
Lakme,  in  the  attire  of  a  dancing  girl.  Only  Delibes 
could  have  written  this  graceful  and  semi-Oriental 
melody,  in  which  the  flavor  of  the  East  qualifies  in  a 
charming  manner  a  brilliant  and  popular  display  piece 
for  the  soprano  voice.  "Lakme"  was  written  with 
special  thought  of  the  voice  of  Marie  van  Zandt,  an 
American  soprano  from  Texas,  whose  art  Delibes 
greatly  admired.  When  she  slightly  changed  the  notes 
of  a  certain  passage  he  first  objected,  then  said:  "Very 
well,  sing  it  your  own  way.  I  really  think  your  version 
is  better  than  mine." 

"  Bell  Song  "  from  "  Lakme  " 

"  Ou  va  la  jeune  Hindoue  "  ("  Where  goes  the  Hindu  maiden  ") 

Sung  by  Florence  Macbeth 

Columbia  Record  A  6189 

The  barytone  air,  "Lakme,  ton  doux  regard,"  is  in  a 
broader  and  more  dramatic  style  than  most  of  the  music 
of  the  opera.  It  is  sung  in  the  same  scene  as  that  in 
which  Lakme  sings  the  "Bell  Song."  Edouard  de  Reszke 
used  to  sing  it  with  such  emotion  and  art  that  he  made 
noble  the  character  of  Nilakantha. 

"  Lakme,  ton  doux  regard  "  ("  Lakme,  how  sad  your  glance  ") 
Sung  by  Hector  Dufranne 
Columbia  Record  A  5444 
179 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Delibes  wrote  "Lakme"  perched  up  in  the  highest  story 
of  one  of  the  crowded  houses  of  the  Rue  de  Rivoli. 
"His  study,"  wrote  a  correspondent,  "is  not  much  longer 
than  what  in  America  is  called  a  hall  bedroom.  It 
contains  a  small  upright  piano,  two  or  three  tables 
loaded  with  books  and  music,  besides  a  wide,  unpainted 
board  supported  by  crossed  legs."  "Lakme"  was  com- 
posed in  that  room  and  on  that  table. 

In  1881,  on  the  death  of  Henri  Reber,  Delibes  became 
professor  of  composition  at  the  Conservatoire,  and  in 
1884  a  member  of  the  Academic.  He  was  never  a  rich 
man.  He  lived  a  simple  and  industrious  life  and  worked 
harder  for  his  pupils  than  he  ever  did  for  himself.  He 
was  a  gay  fellow  who  never  grew  old;  six  feet  tall,  with 
thick  hair  and  blond  beard  and  a  laugh  that  shook  the 
rafters.  Offenbach  found  one  day,  in  rehearsal  of  one 
of  his  own  works,  that  in  some  strange  manner  a  solo 
for  the  big  bass  drum  had  been  written  into  the  orches- 
tral parts.  No  one  could  tell  how  it  came  there.  There 
was  one  answer — Delibes.  He  was  a  born  wag.  It  is 
recalled  that  Delibes  and  his  friend,  Philippe  Gille, 
used  to  follow  Meyerbeer  about  the  streets  of  Paris 
with  audible  compliments  and  exaggerated  homage. 
Meyerbeer  would  turn  and  salute  the  pair  with  extreme 
politeness,  taking  them  for  a  couple  of  newspaper-men, 
for  whom  the  composer  of  "Les  Huguenots"  entertained 
a  respect  not  unmixed  with  fear! 

One  evening  at  Gille's  house  Delibes  was  playing  frag- 
ments of  his  new  opera,  "Kassya,"  and  tumbling  about 
with  Gille's  son,  Victor,  who  was  Delibes's  godchild, 
when  he  seemed  exhausted  and  lay  down  on  a  couch. 
He  did  not  rise  through  the  evening.  "You  know  I  am 
all  here.  It  may  look  to  you  that  I  am  sleeping,  but  I 
am  listening  to  everything  that  is  going  on."  The  next 
morning,  when  on  his  way  to  his  classes  at  the  Conserva- 
toire, he  was  taken  suddenly  ill  on  the  street,  and  died. 

180 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

By  his  exquisite  ballets  Delibes  will  be  long  remem- 
bered. In  them  he  revivified  the  past  in  a  modern 
manner  and  also  anticipated  the  succeeding  period  in 
which,  thanks  largely  to  him,  the  French  ballet  came 
to  its  full  glory.  "The  scores  of  'Sylvia'  and  'Cop- 
pelia,' "  wrote  Alfred  Bruneau,  the  French  critic  and 
composer,  "beautiful,  distinctive,  spiritual,  singing, 
luminous,  lively,  full  of  all  sorts  of  ingenuities  of  rhythm, 
melody,  harmony,  and  orchestration,  are  the  ravishing 
jewels  which,  in  the  museum  of  our  treasure-house,  oc- 
cupy a  niche  of  their  own." 


GEORGES  BIZET 

r  I  iHE  composer  of  "Carmen,"  to-day  one  of  the  most 

J[     popular  and  brilliant  of  all  operas,  died  young  and 

broken-hearted    at    the    apparent    failure    of    his 

masterpiece.     Madame  Galli-Mari6,  who  took  the  title 

role,  was   shuffling    the    cards    in   the    scene   in  which 

Carmen  foresees  her  death  only  a  few  hours  from  the 

time  he  passed  away. 

Bizet  inherited  his  prodigious  talent.  His  mother 
was  an  admirable  pianist,  sister-in-law  of  Delsarte,  of 
physical-culture  fame.  His  father  commenced  life  as 
an  artisan,  but  so  loved  music  that  he  became  a  pro- 
fessional musician  at  the  age  of  twenty-five.  He  often 
repented  the  early  years  spent  in  an  uncongenial  trade; 
he  dreamed  of  what  he  might  have  been  if  he  had  had 
an  earlier  start.  But  there  was  his  child,  born  with 
genius,  knowing  in  his  boyhood  what  the  father  had 
given  years  and  the  very  blood  of  his  heart  to  learn! 

"Alexandre  Cesar  Leopold"  he  was  named  at  his 
christening,  but  he  quickly  became  "Georges"  for  short. 
He  was  born  in  Paris,  October  25,  1838.  At  ten  he 
entered  the  Conservatoire,  took  prize  after  prize,  and 
made  every  one  love  him.  He  was  gay,  impetuous,  hot- 
hearted.  He  had  a  shock  of  yellow  hair,  firm  features, 
a  strong  body,  a  ringing  laugh.  The  sweetness  of  his 
mouth  balanced  the  mischievous  sparkle  of  his  eyes. 
He  was  near-sighted,  even  then,  and  a  tremendous 
worker. 

Bizet  won  the  Prix  de  Rome  in  1857  with  his  cantata, 
"Clovis  et  Clothilde."  In  Rome  he  spent  his  happiest 
years.  In  Rome  he  dreamed  the  dreams  that  never 

182 


BIZET,    1838-1875 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

came  true.  He  wrote  his  mother  that  he  intended  to 
make  one  hundred  thousand  francs  as  soon  as  he  re- 
turned to  Paris.  It  was  simple!  Two  successes  at  the 
Opera  Comique,  and  neither  of  his  parents  would  have 
to  teach.  With  one  hand  he  fought  circumstances ;  with 
the  other  he  held  aloft  the  banner  of  the  ideal.  Bizet 
was  accused  on  certain  occasions  of  writing  down  to 
the  popular  taste.  The  wonder  is  that  with  all  his  trials 
he  produced  so  much  great  art.  And  there  is  such  a 
thing,  as  he  proved  in  his  "Carmen,"  as  writing,  not 
"down,"  but  "up"  to  the  finest  sensibilities  of  the 
public. 

When  Bizet  returned  to  Paris  his  mother  was  on  her 
death-bed.  He  had  no  money.  He  found  music,  in 
his  own  words,  "a  splendid  art,  but  a  sad  trade."  He  did 
hack  work  of  all  kinds.  He  gave  piano  lessons,  com- 
posed for  dances,  and  wrote  music  for  hire. 

Count  Waleswki  had  bestowed  on  the  Theatre  Lyrique 
a  subsidy  of  one  hundred  thousand  francs,  on  condition 
that  a  new  work  by  a  winner  of  the  Prix  de  Rome  be 
mounted  each  season.  Bizet  was  the  first  to  benefit 
by  this  agreement.  His  opera  was  "Les  Pecheurs  de 
Perles"  ("The  Pearl  Fishers").  It  was  produced  on 
the  29th  of  September,  1863. 

The  libretto  is  the  work  of  Carre  and  Cormon.  The 
Ceylonese  pearl-fishers  choose  a  virgin  priestess  who  is 
to  call  down  the  blessings  of  Brahma  on  their  perilous 
undertakings.  When  Leila,  the  priestess,  appears,  she 
is  recognized  by  Nadir  and  Zurga  as  the  beautiful  and 
unknown  maiden  whom  they  once  beheld  before  a  tem- 
ple in  the  forest.  The  duet  in  which  this  incident  is 
recalled  is  one  of  the  finest  passages  in  the  opera.  It 
was  sung  with  sacred  text  at  Bizet's  funeral.  It  dis- 
plays advantageously  his  gift  as  a  melodist  and  a  writer 
for  the  voice.  But  it  is  rather  in  the  exotic  coloring 
of  certain  passages  that  one  encounters  the  later  Bizet. 

183 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

The  comrades  had  vowed  never  to  allow  a  woman  to 
come  between  them  and  had  hurried  from  the  spot. 
But  neither  has  forgotten.  Recalling  the  past,  Nadir 
sings  of  the  day  that  he  first  saw  Leila,  as  in  a  dream. 

"  Mi  par  d'udire  ancora  "  ("  Methinks  again  I  hear  ") 

Sung  by  Florencio  Constantino 

Columbia  Record  30466 

Nadir  is  unable  to  restrain  his  passion  for  the  priestess. 
They  flee.  It  is  the  generous  Zurga,  at  the  price  of  his 
own  life,  who  makes  their  escape  possible. 

The  public  found  this  opera  disturbing  in  its  novelty, 
and  only  eighteen  performances  were  given.  A  letter 
that  Gounod  wrote  Bizet  at  this  time  would  be  sound 
advice  for  any  man,  whether  composing  or  driving  rivets 
in  ships:  "Do  not  hurry  under  pretense  that  you  are 
pressed.  Bring  your  work  to  maturity  as  if  you  had 
twice  the  time,  only  work  without  interruption;  that 
was  the  system  of  the  tortoise  and  it  defeated  the  hare." 

Bizet's  second  opera  was  "La  Jolie  Fille  de  Perth" 
("The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth"),  which,  produced  at  the 
Theatre  Lyrique,  December  26,  1867,  had  a  short  run. 
"Djamileh,"  an  Oriental  one-act  piece,  in  which,  to 
quote  Mr.  Philip  Hale,  "the  three  comedians  should  be 
seen  as  in  an  opium  dream,"  was  given  without  success 
at  the  Opera  Comique,  May  22,  1872;  but  the  two 
works  in  which  Bizet,  artistically  speaking,  came  into 
his  own  were  "L'Arlesienne,"  in  which  he  wrote  the 
incidental  music  for  the  drama  by  Daudet,  and  the 
opera  "Carmen."  Carvalho,  manager  of  the  Vaude- 
ville, wished  to  revive  the  form  of  the  melodrama — 
the  drama  with  musical  accompaniment  and  commen- 
tary. He  asked  Daudet  and  Bizet  to  collaborate,  as 
a  result  of  which  two  very  wonderful  talents,  essen- 
tially typical  of  the  best  in  the  French  art  of  their 
period,  thought  and  felt  as  one. 

184 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

The  heroine  of  "L'Arlesienne"  ("The  Woman  of 
Aries"),  after  whom  the  drama  is  named,  never  appears 
on  the  stage.  This  was  a  subtlety  which  disappointed 
audiences  of  the  day,  eager  to  see  the  woman  who 
wrought  the  destruction  of  the  youth,  Frederi.  Dis- 
covering her  infamy,  he  tried  in  vain  to  forget  her. 
His  mother  wished  him  to  marry  the  faithful  Vivette, 
who  loved  him  well.  This  affection  Frederi  could  not 
return.  On  the  very  night  of  their  betrothal,  while  the 
peasants  danced  the  farandole  in  the  courtyard,  he 
destroyed  himself.  Marvelous  is  the  reflection,  in 
Bizet's  score,  of  those  calm  and  pastoral  scenes  in 
southern  France  which  form  the  background  for  the 
play  of  the  terrible  passions  of  the  human  race. 

In  the  prelude  to  "L'Arlesienne"  Bizet  uses  with 
superb  effect  the  ancient  Noel,  or  Christmas  song,  of 
Provence,  "The  March  of  the  Three  Kings."  This  is 
an  air  of  great  antiquity,  and  one  of  the  finest  folk- 
tunes  in  existence.  In  its  original  form  it  narrates  the 
journey  of  the  kings  who  go  to  lay  their  treasures  at 
the  feet  of  the  Infant  Jesus.  At  first  it  is  played  "in 
unison"  by  the  instruments  of  the  orchestra  without 
chords  to  accompany  the  melody.  The  inspired  ada- 
gietto,  a  passage  of  simple  and  sublime  tenderness, 
accompanies  in  the  drama  the  meeting,  after  many 
years,  of  the  shepherd  Balthazar  and  Mother  Renaud. 
These  two  figures  are  introduced  with  the  utmost  skill 
and  poetry  by  the  dramatist  as  a  foil  to  the  agony  of 
Frederi.  Balthazar  loved  Mother  Renaud,  when  both 
were  young,  as  fiercely,  perhaps,  as  Frederi  the  woman 
of  Aries,  but  Renaud  belonged  to  another,  and  she  and 
her  shepherd  through  long,  empty  years  kept  faith. 

Prelude  and  Adagietto  from  "  L'Arlesienne  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5559 

185 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

The  Farandole  of  disputed  origin  is  a  very  old  Pro- 
vengal  dance,  coming  probably  from  ancient  Greece.  It 
is  vigorous  and  joyous  in  character.  Bizet  has  treated 
this  form  with  extraordinary  skill  and  in  a  truly  primitive 
spirit.  The  orchestra's  announcement  of  the  dance  is 
preceded  by  a  crashing  version  of  "The  March  of  the 
Three  Kings,"  already  heard  in  the  prelude.  In  the 
last  measures,  while  the  Farandole  tune  whirls  in  the 
upper  registers  of  the  orchestra,  the  brass,  underneath, 
shout  out  the  theme  of  the  march. 

Farandole  from  2d  L'Arlesienne  Suite 

Played  by  the  French  Army  Band  (Garde  de  la  Republique) 
Columbia  Record  A  6114 

"L'Arlesienne"  was  given  its  first  performance  at 
the  Vaudeville,  Paris,  October  1,  1872.  In  1873  Bizet 
married  Genevieve  Halevy,  daughter  of  Ludovic  Halevy, 
Bizet's  old  teacher  at  the  Conservatoire.  Whether 
through  Halevy's  influence  or  the  undirected  choice 
of  Leuven  and  Du  Locle,  then  directors  of  the  Opera 
Comique,  Bizet  was  commissioned  to  write  a  work  for 
that  institution.  He  experimented  with  various  sub- 
jects and  at  last  chose  that  of  "Carmen,"  after  the  novel 
of  Prosper  Merimee.  The  libretto  was  prepared  by 
Halevy  and  Meilhac.  It  did  not  follow  the  original 
tale  too  closely.  The  figure  of  Micaela,  Jose's  fiancee, 
for  instance,  does  not  appear  at  all  in  Merimee's  story. 
She  is  introduced  in  the  opera  to  afford  a  dramatic  con- 
trast to  the  figure  of  Carmen;  for  the  managers  of  the 
Opera  Comique  were  by  this  time  sufficiently  alarmed 
by  the  subject  of  Bizet's  choice.  Said  Leuven: 

"Carmen?  Merimee's  Carmen?  Isn't  she  assassi- 
nated by  her  lover?  And  this  crowd  of  thieves,  gipsies, 
cigar  girls!  At  the  Opera  Comique!  A  family  theater! 
A  theater  for  the  promotion  of  marriages!  We  rent  five 
or  six  boxes  every  night  for  these  meetings  of  voung 


couples.  You  are  going  to  put  our  audience  to  flight. 
No,  it's  impossible." 

Leuven  retired  from  the  direction  of  the  Opera 
Comique  before  "Carmen"  was  given.  Du  Locle  was 
the  manager  when  the  opera  was  performed,  March 
3,  1875. 

Jose  (Act  I),  a  young  lieutenant  of  the  guards  on 
duty  in  Seville,  is  seen  by  Carmen,  the  cigarette  girl, 
the  gipsy,  the  wanton.  Piqued  by  his  indifference,  she 
pursues  him.  She  sings  a  love-song,  dances  before  him, 
and  at  last  throws  a  rose  which  hits  him  "like  a  bullet" 
in  the  heart. 

"  Habanera  "  from  "  Carmen  " 

"  L'amour  est  un  oiseau  rebelle  "  ("  Love  is  as  a  woodbird  wild  ")    • 
Sung  by  Maria  Gay  Columbia  Record  A  5279 

Sung  by  Jeanne  Gordon  Columbia  Record  49858 

This  song  is  not  the  melody  Bizet  originally  composed 
for  the  entrance  of  Carmen  on  the  stage.  Madame 
Galli-Marie  wanted  something  different  from  his  first 
effort,  something  in  which  she  could  display  all  her 
charms.  Bizet  tried  twelve  times  to  suit  her.  Only 
at  the  thirteenth  effort  did  he  succeed,  with  an  old 
Spanish  tune  which  had  already  been  used  by  the 
composer  Yradier.  The  "Habanera"  from  "Carmen" 
is  not,  then,  the  original  invention  of  Bizet,  nor  yet  of 
Yradier,  but  of  a  singer  unknown,  whose  melody  fas- 
cinated more  than  one  composer. 

Jose,  engaged  to  the  fair-haired  Micaela,  cannot  for- 
get the  smiles  and  the  disturbing  glances  of  the  gipsy. 
She  is  arrested,  and  he  is  commanded  to  take  her  to 
jail.  But  the  gipsy,  full  of  wiles,  sings  of  her  love  for 
the  young  soldier  whom  she  would  fain  meet  at  the  inn 
of  Lillas  Pastia  in  the  mountains,  and  Jose,  as  wax  in 
the  hands  of  the  woman,  forgets  faith,  honor,  every- 
thing for  her.  She  escapes,  and  for  disobeying  orders 
he  is  cast  into  prison. 
15  187 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

At  the  inn  of  Lillas  Pastia  (Act  II),  a  resort  of  thieves, 
cutthroats,  and  toss-pots  of  the  countryside,  Carmen  is 
besieged  by  her  admirers.  Among  them  is  Zuniga, 
Jose's  superior  officer.  Soon  comes  Escamillo,  the  swag- 
gering toreador,  to  shouts  of  welcome  and  acclamation. 
Carmen  is  much  interested,  and  Escamillo  is  not  un- 
mindful of  his  good  fortune.  At  first  for  the  company, 
but  later  for  her — at  her — he  sings  of  the  bull-ring, 
of  the  shouts  of  the  excited  crowd,  and  the  prowess  of 
the  toreador. 

Toreador's  Song  from  "  Carmen  " 

"  Votre  toast  je  peux  vous  le  rendre  "  ("  To  you,  hearty  greeting  ") 
Sung  by  Jose  Mardones 
Columbia  Record  A  6095 

Carmen  coquets  with  him.  Escamillo  and  the  com- 
pany depart.  Carmen  is  asked  to  join  a  smuggling 
expedition.  She  refuses.  "The  reason?  I'm  in  love." 
She  expects  Jose,  who  even  now  comes  singing  up  the 
valley. 

Carmen  welcomes  him.  Carmen  caresses  him.  Car- 
men dances  for  him  as  only  she  can  dance.  Then 
sounds  the  note  of  the  trumpet,  clear  and  penetrating, 
between  the  click  of  the  castanets,  summoning  Jose  to 
duty.  The  gipsy,  in  a  royal  rage,  tells  him  to  choose — 
the  garrison  or  the  love  of  Carmen.  Jose  takes  from 
his  breast  the  rose  for  wThich  he  bartered  a  soldier's 
honor,  the  flower  which  has  been  his  one  consolation 
since  the  time  of  his  disgrace,  and  implores  her  to  have 
mercy. 

"Flower  Song"  from  "Carmen" 

Sung  by  Charles  Hackett  (In  Italian) 

Columbia  Record  49947 

Carmen  is  touched  by  this,  but  will  not  relent.  Jose 
sadly  gathers  up  his  arms  and  is  about  to  go  when,  as 

the  devil  will  have  it,  there  is  a  knock  on  the  door,  and 

188 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

his  superior,  Zuniga,  is  before  him.  Jose  is  ordered 
arrogantly  to  return  at  once  to  the  barracks,  but  mili- 
tary rule  and  the  rivalry  of  two  men  for  a  woman  are 
different  things.  Swords  are  drawn.  The  men  are 
fighting  when  Carmen  calls  in  her  comrades.  Zuniga  is 
disarmed,  and  Jose,  outlawed,  casts  his  lot  with  Carmen 
and  her  people. 

But  Carmen  (Act  III)  soon  commences  to  tire  of  her 
soldier.  He  is  over-scrupulous,  serious,  melancholy, 
and  possessive.  The  gipsy  will  always  be  free.  The 
great  moment  of  the  third  act  is  the  card  scene,  man- 
aged with  equal  dexterity  by  composer  and  librettists. 
On  one  side  of  the  camp-fire  sits  Carmen  with  cards,  on 
the  other  two  prattling  girls,  Frasquita  and  Mercedes. 
The  light-hearted  gaiety  of  their  song  contrasts  power- 
fully with  the  somber  music  heard  as  Carmen  picks  up 
the  deck  and  throws  a  spade.  Death!  She  throws 
again.  Once  more  a  spade.  And  a  last  time.  Again 
the  black  omen.  For  a  moment,  gazing  into  the  future, 
the  gipsy  is  face  to  face  with  destiny.  Then  she  turns 
petulantly  to  join  the  tribe  in  a  new  adventure. 

Card  Scene  from   "  Carmen  " 
"  La  morte!  j'ai  bien  lu  "  ("  To  die!   So  it  stands  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Gay 
Columbia  Record  A  5279 

Jose  is  left  to  guard  the  pass.  Micaela  steals  in, 
frightened  at  these  surroundings,  with  a  sad  message. 
She  puts  her  trust  in  God  to  protect  her  in  this  perilous 
place,  where  she  has  come  to  find  the  faithless  one.  This 
is  the  occasion  for  her  melodious  song,  "Je  dis  que 
rien"  ("I  say  that  no  fear  shall  deter  me")/ 

Micaela's  Air  from  "  Carmen  " 

"  Je  dis  que  rien  "  ("  I  fear  no  evil  ") 

Sung  by  Hulda  Laschanska 

Columbia  Record  49516 

189 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

A  shot!  Jose  and  the  toreador  descend  the  pass  from 
opposite  sides,  the  toreador  with  a  hole  in  his  hat. 
Discovering  that  they  are  rivals,  they  fight.  Again 
the  gipsies  intervene,  this  time  to  protect  Escamillo. 
Carmen  shows  plainly  her  new  infatuation.  There  is 
a  violent  scene,  and  Jose  consents  to  leave  only  when 
Micaela  tells  him  that  his  mother  is  dying.  The  cur- 
tain falls. 

We  have  waited  until  now  to  describe  the  music 
of  the  prelude  to  "Carmen."  This  music  is  heard  at 
the  beginning  of  the  opera  and  again  with  easily  recog- 
nizable alterations  as  the  introduction  to  the  last  act. 
It  is  prophetic  of  the  development  of  the  drama.  The 
opening  strain  is  founded  on  the  rhythm  of  the  march 
of  the  cuadrillas.  Later  comes  the  song  of  the  toreador. 
The  dance  returns.  Suddenly  it  breaks  off;  there  is  a 
moment  of  silence,  more  expressive  than  the  playing 
of  a  dozen  orchestras,  after  which  the  'cellos  intone  one 
of  the  most  dramatic  motives  in  all  music — a  motive  of 
five  notes,  savage,  foreboding,  an  outcry  of  passion, 
which,  repeated,  warns  the  hearer  of  Carmen's  tragic 
end.  Here,  in  two  measures,  is  the  epitome  of  the 
tragedy.  The  prelude  is  followed  in  the  record  hereafter 
to  be  noted  by  another  no  less  brief  and  remarkable 
example  of  Bizet's  genius — the  intermezzo  which  pre- 
cedes the  fourth  act.  It  is  difficult  to  overestimate  the 
originality  of  this  little  piece.  One  hears  successively 
the  banging  of  instruments  of  percussion,  the  plucking 
of  strings,  and  the  strange  song  of  a  clarinet — ghostly, 
sinister,  a  melody  which  is  as  a  disembodied  voice  of  the 
desert.  There  is  a  passionate  reply  from  other  instru- 
ments of  the  orchestra,  after  which  the  unearthly  mel- 
ody is  heard  again.  "This  music,"  said  Nietzsche, 
who,  turning  from  Wagner,  exulted  in  the  genius  of 
"Carmen,"  "is  wicked,  subtle,  and  fatalistic.  It  re- 
mains popular  at  the  same  time.  Its  gaiety  is  African; 

190 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

destiny  hangs  over  it;    its  happiness  is  short,  sudden, 
and  without  forgiveness." 

Prelude  and  Intermezzo  from  "  Carmen  " 
Played   by   Columbia   Symphony   Orchestra    (Conductor,   Felix   Wein- 

gartner) 
Columbia  Record  A  5559 

The  end  of  the  drama  conies  quickly.  The  day  of  the 
bull-fight!  Spanish  women,  flaunting  their  finery,  like 
birds-of -paradise,  in  the  square  of  Seville!  Cavaliers 
no  less  gaily  attired!  The  cries  of  the  venders!  The 
laughter  of  street  urchins,  and  a  sun  which  inflames  the 
blood — all  these  things  are  in  the  pounding  music  of 
Bizet.  A  shout  of  welcome,  and  the  glittering  pageant 
files  into  the  ring;  the  solemn,  black-robed  alguazil, 
representative  of  the  law;  a  cuadrilla  of  Toreros;  chulos; 
banderilleros;  picadors;  and  lastly,  with  Carmen  on  his 
arm,  the  toreador.  A  moment,  the  last  the  gipsy  will 
ever  know  of  love  and  languor,  and  he  leaves  her  to  enter 
the  bull-ring.  Carmen  is  warned  by  her  companions. 
Jose  is  lurking  about,  more  a  mad  animal  than  a  man, 
with  death  in  his  eyes.  He  approaches  and  desperately 
implores  Carmen  to  return  to  him.  She  draws  his  ring 
from  her  finger  and  flings  it  in  his  face.  Jose,  seeing  red, 
strikes  her  to  the  ground.  And  he  cries,  as  she  falls: 
"  I  have  killed  you.  Oh,  my  Carmen,  my  Carmen,  whom 
I  adored!" 


GIACOMO  PUCCINI 

A  GREAT  success  is  often  the  result  of  many  fail- 
ures. Giacomo  Puccini,  composer  of  "La  Bo- 
heme,"  "Tosca,"  "Madam  Butterfly,"  and  other 
of  the  most  popular  operas  of  the  present  day,  is  a 
case  in  point.  In  his  youth  Puccini,  born  at  Lucca, 
June  22,  1858,  was  a  disappointment  to  every  one. 
He  failed  in  school.  He  failed  when  an  uncle  tried  to 
make  a  singer  of  him.  Even  "Madam  Butterfly,"  per- 
haps the  most  popular  of  all  his  operas,  failed  at  its 
initial  performance. 

But  Puccini  had  two  things  powerfully  in  his  favor: 
a  bulldog  tenacity  of  purpose  and  inability  to  know  when 
he  was  beaten,  and  a  mother  who  believed  in  him  from 
the  bottom  of  her  soul.  She  pinched  and  saved  that  he 
might  have  the  necessary  training  in  his  art.  Her  faith 
was  unwavering.  Puccini's  ancestors  had  been  musi- 
cians for  generations.  There  was  music  in  him.  He 
loved  it,  and  some  day  it  would  come  out.  He  was  her 
son. 

Puccini  passed  through  the  hands  of  several  teachers, 
who  could  do  nothing  with  him.  Finally  he  found  a 
congenial  guide  in  Angeloni,  an  old  musician,  a  former 
colleague  of  his  father,  who  seemed  to  have  some  under- 
standing of  the  boy.  Angeloni  secured  Puccini  a  posi- 
tion as  organist  in  a  little  church  of  Lucca,  the  town 
of  his  birth,  and  Puccini  promptly  got  into  trouble  with 
the  church  authorities.  This  came  about  because  he 
was  fond  of  weaving  into  the  solemn  musical  service 
favorite  airs  from  the  popular  operas  of  the  day.  What 
was  worse,  the  congregation  seemed  to  enjoy  it,  until 

192 


PUCCINI,   1858 


THE   LURE    OF   MUSIC 

respectability  claimed  its  own  and  the  church  authori- 
ties put  a  stop  to  the  mischief.  It  is  to  be  feared  that 
Puccini  was  not  regarded  as  a  model  citizen. 

He  drifted  along  until  he  heard  a  performance  of 
Verdi's  "Alda,"  which  awakened  him  to  a  realization 
of  his  purpose  in  life.  He  then  decided  to  go  to  Milan 
and  learn  how  to  compose  operas. 

There  were  no  funds  available,  but  his  mother  con- 
trived to  gain  audience  of  Queen  Margherita  of  Italy, 
and  the  queen,  who  became  the  lifelong  friend  of  the 
composer,  agreed  to  supply  the  means  for  two  years' 
study  in  Milan. 

Arrived  at  Milan,  Puccini,  true  to  form,  failed  in 
his  entrance  examinations  for  the  Conservatory.  The 
next  year  he  passed  every  other  applicant  and  entered 
the  famous  institution  with  flying  colors.  Astonishing 
to  relate,  he  soon  succeeded  in  getting  a  capriccio  for 
orchestra  approved  by  his  teachers  and  performed  by 
the  Conservatory  band.  Astonishing,  in  the  first  place, 
because  he  succeeded  in  something  at  a  first  attempt, 
and,  secondly,  because  it  is  unknown  to  this  day  how 
he  found  any  one  with  the  patience  to  read  his  manu- 
script. The  Puccini  manuscripts  were  then,  and  are 
now,  miracles  of  illegibility. 

Puccini's  teacher  in  composition  was  Amilcare  Pon- 
chielli,  the  composer  of  "La  Gioconda,"  the  teacher 
and  mentor  of  many  of  the  young  Italian  musicians 
of  the  day,  who  encouraged  his  pupil  to  write  a  first 
opera,  "Le  Villi"  (Milan,  1884).  This  opera  turned 
out  to  be  of  little  value,  but  if  luck  had  been  against 
Puccini  in  the  early  stages  of  his  career  it  was  with 
him  now.  "Le  Villi"  attracted  the  attention  of  Giulio 
Ricordi,  head  of  the  Ricordi  firm  of  music-publishers 
in  Italy,  which  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  music  cor- 
porations of  modern  times.  Ricordi  believed  he  saw 
in  "Le  Villi"  the  makings  of  a  great  composer  whom 

193 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

lie  decided  to  secure  at  once.  He  paid  Puccini  two 
hundred  dollars  for  "Le  Villi,"  and  four  hundred  dol- 
lars for  a  second  opera,  "Edgar"  (Milan,  1889),  which 
was  not  much  better  than  the  first.  With  this  money 
Puccini  paid  a  restaurant  bill  and  other  debts  of  long 
standing,  took  the  cheapest  lodgings  in  the  student 
quarter  of  Milan,  and  laid  the  real  foundations  of  his 
career.  It  was  in  these  circumstances  that  he  com- 
posed his  third  opera,  "Manon  Lescaut"  (produced  at 
Turin,  February  1,  1893),  after  the  romance  of  the 
Abbe  Prevost,  an  opera  which  wholly  vindicated  the 
judgment  of  Ricordi  and  placed  Puccini  in  the  front 
rank  of  the  young  Italian  composers  of  the  day. 

But  Puccini  had  yet  to  write  his  most  beautiful  and 
inspired  work,  "La  Boheme"  (Turin,  February  1,  1896), 
the  libretto  by  Illica  and  G.  Giacosa,  after  the  celebrated 
novel,  La  Vie  de  Boheme  of  Henri  Murger.  He  now 
lived  in  one  room  in  the  Bohemian  quarter  of  Milan — he 
and  his  brother  and  a  friend.  For  this  room  the  trio  paid 
six  dollars  a  montb.  There  they  cooked  their  meals 
over  a  lamp,  and  the  story  goes  that  Puccini  had  to 
play  the  piano  loudly  to  drown  the  sound  of  eggs  siz- 
zling in  the  pan — a  proceeding  forbidden  by  the  land- 
lord. This  landlord  reappears,  large  as  life,  in  the  opera. 
He  often  examined  the  students'  daily  mail  before  he 
gave  it  to  them,  in  order  to  deduct,  when  possible,  the 
sum  of  his  monthly  rental.  The  boys  smuggled  in  their 
fuel  in  a  lawyer's  black  bag,  which  the  most  dignified 
of  the  three  gravely  carried  through  the  streets,  pre- 
tending that  he  was  on  some  professional  mission.  A 
daily  diary  preserves  entries  of  the  daily  expenses, 
which  were  mainly  for  coffee,  tobacco,  milk,  and,  in  one 
place,  a  herring!  Reminded  of  this  in  a  later  year, 
Puccini  laughed  and  said:  "Ah,  yes,  I  remember.  That 
was  a  supper  for  four!" 

Glorious  days,  when  all  worked  mightily,  lived  on 

194 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

next  to  nothing,  and  fell  in  love  with  the  pretty  girls 
of  the  quarter!  All  this  became  warp  and  woof  of  "La 
Boheme." 

The  form  of  "La  Boheme"  is  somewhat  similar  to 
that  of  "Manon  Lescaut."  Only  two  of  the  scenes 
hinge  closely  together.  A  joyous  racket  in  the  orches- 
tra, the  curtain  flies  up,  and  there  are  the  immortal 
Bohemians — two  of  them  at  least — Rodolphe,  the  poet, 
and  Marcel,  the  painter,  enemies  of  propriety,  dressed 
as  the  choicer  spirits  still  dress  on  the  fourteenth  day 
of  July  in  the  Latin  Quarter  of  Paris,  and,  of  course, 
starving.  Rodolphe's  epic  is  burned  to  keep  the  fire 
going.  But  Schaunard,  the  musician,  comes  in  armed 
with  food  and  money.  High  festival  by  the  Bohemians ! 
The  landlord  demands  his  rent,  is  first  flattered,  then 
bullied,  then  thrust  from  the  room.  The  comrades  of 
Rodolphe  go  out.  Then  conies  the  moment  in  the  whis- 
pering orchestra — oh,  might  it  tarry  with  us! — when 
Mimi,  the  little  seamstress  over  the  way,  opens  the  door. 
The  girl  is  pretty,  not  too  proud,  and  the  moon  is  shining 
through  the  dusty  window-pane — a  dangerous  situa- 
tion, indeed,  for  a  young  poet  with  an  article  to  finish 
for  his  paper.  Not  accidentally,  perhaps,  Mimi's  can- 
dle blows  out  and  she  drops  her  door-key.  Searching 
for  it,  the  two  touch  hands,  and  are  soon  lost  to  the 
world. 

It  is  here  that  Rodolphe  sings  his  romantic  solo,  be- 
ginning "Che  gelida  manina"  ("Your  tiny  hand"),  and, 
continuing,  "Sono  un  poeta"  ("I  am  a  poet"),  a  glori- 
ous melody  of  youth  and  love,  a  true  lineal  descendant, 
in  its  long,  rapturous  phrases,  of  the  melodies  of  Italian 
composers  of  an  early  period. 

"  Che  gelida  manina  "  ("  Your  tiny  hand  is  frozen  ") 

Sung  by  Charles  Hackett 

Columbia  Record  49645 

195 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Mimi  answers,  in  music  of  charming  simplicity  and 
feeling,  that  she  embroiders  flowers  in  her  little  attic, 
and  they  make  her  happy  by  telling  her  secrets  of  love 
and  the  springtime — such  as  only  poets  know. 

And  so  on — the  conversation  of  idiots,  as  all  such  con- 
versations should  be.  The  text,  certainly,  is  better 
than  the  texts  which  rhymed  '^amore"  with  "dolore" 
and  completely  satisfied  Puccini's  operatic  forebears. 
But  a  composer  could  write  music  in  this  place,  with  no 
words  at  all! 

The  conclusion  of  this  act  is  a  moment  of  exquisite 
poetry.  Rodolphe  persuades  the  pretty  girl  to  join  him 
and  his  comrades  at  supper,  shadows  take  possession 
of  the  dirty  old  studio,  and  the  voices  of  the  two  lovers 
float  back  over  the  orchestra  as  they  descend  the  rickety 
stairs.  Puccini  has  been  accused,  in  other  operas,  of 
having  written  with  one  eye  on  the  gallery  and  the 
other  on  the  box-office.  Here,  at  least,  he  lives  again 
the  Arcadian  days  of  his  youth;  he  looks  into  Mimi's 
eyes,  he  presses  her  hand,  and  writes  that  which,  as  long 
as  his  music  endures,  will  set  youth  and  age  a-dreaming. 

Youth,  dreams,  these  are  the  wonder  of  "La  Boheme." 
There  are  other  Puccini  operas.  There  are  "Tosca"  and 
"Madam  Butterfly,"  very  famous.  There  is  the  imma- 
ture but  vigorously  dramatic  "Manon  Lescaut."  There 
are  later  works,  already  aging.  The  world  will  listen 
longest  to  the  music  of  dreams  that  do  not  come  again. 

"The  Bohemians,"  says  Miirger,  "always  went  about 
together,  played  together,  dined  together,  often  without 
paying  the  bill,  yet  always  with  a  beautiful  harmony 
worthy  of  the  Conservatoire  orchestra."  In  the  second 
act  they  dine  at  the  Cafe  Momus,  Mimi  and  Rodolphe 
seeing  little  of  the  bustle  and  sraiety  of  the  scene  before 
them,  Marcel  dejected  and  distrait.  His  Musette  has 
deserted  him  for  a  banker  whose  voice,  though  cracked, 
is  golden.  And  here  she  comes,  full  sail  in  silks  and 

196 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

furbelows,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  elderly  adorer  and 
regarding  her  old  friends  through  a  lorgnette  as  one 
would  contemplate  the  inferior  beings  of  some  distant 
planet.  She  eyes  Marcel  and  sings  a  song  that  would 
work  mischief  in  the  breast  of  Saint  Anthony. 

Musette's  Waltz  Song,  from  "  La  BohSme  " 

"  Quando  me'n  vo'  "    ("As  through  the  street") 

Sung  by  Margaret  Romaine 

Columbia  Record  A  2846 

Youth  triumphs  over  age  and  wealth.  Like  two  mag- 
nets, amid  the  noisy  crowd,  Marcel  and  Musette  draw 
nearer  each  other.  Musette  makes  a  fuss  over  her  shoe, 
which,  she  says,  hurts  her;  her  banker  hurries  off  to  find 
relief,  and  when  he  comes  back  his  bird  has  flown. 
Musette,  half -shod,  has  rejoined  the  Bohemians. 

The  course  of  love,  however,  did  not  run  smooth.  Mar- 
cel (Act  III)  and  Musette  undertook  to  manage  an  inn  at 
a  gate  of  Paris.  All  went  well  until  she  began  to  flirt  with 
the  customers  and  drove  him  nearly  mad  with  her  ca- 
prices. Rodolphe  quarreled  with  Mimi.  There  were 
tears,  reconciliations,  avowals,  which  only  preceded  fresh 
disagreements.  Mimi  developed  an  alarming  cough. 

This  is  the  substance  of  the  first  three  acts.  In  all 
his  lifetime  Puccini  did  nothing  to  surpass  the  simple 
eloquence  and  pathos  of  the  final  scenes.  Winter  in 
very  truth  has  descended  on  the  Bohemians — cold,  hun- 
gry, back  in  their  garret,  and  jesting  miserably  in  order 
to  hide  misgivings.  The  faithless  Mimi  and  Musette 
have  disappeared.  Marcel  and  Rodolphe  sing  a  dole- 
ful but  melodious  duet. 

Suddenly  arrives  Musette,  with  the  news  that  Mimi 
is  on  the  landing  below,  out  of  breath,  and  unable  to 
climb  the  stairs.  They  bring  her  in,  they  lay  her  on 
Rodolphe's  hard,  ragged  bed,  to  die.  There  is  need  of 
food,  medicine,  money.  Musette  takes  off  her  jewels, 

197 


THE   LURE    OF   MUSIC 

presents  of  her  latest  admirer;  Colline  removes  his  old 
coat,  companion  of  how  many  trials,  consoler  of  how 
many  sad  hours.  To  the  pawnbroker!  Farewell  to 
the  brave  garment!  It  never  bowed  to  rich  or  great. 
It  sheltered  in  its  pockets  poets  and  philosophers. 

This  scene  is  the  true  climax  of  the  opera,  the  summit 
of  the  composer's  art.  How  he  could  have  wept  and 
wailed!  But  Puccini  dares  o  be  supremely  artistic, 
dispensing  completely  with  what  is  merely  theatrical. 
A  very  few  instruments,  a  fragment  of  a  melody,  touch- 
ingly  reminiscent  of  happier  days,  make  poignant  the 
idyl  and  tragedy  of  youth  and  days  gone  by. 

Puccini's  next  opera  was  the  grim  and  realistic 
"Tosca."  His  music  emphasizes  the  force  and  terror  of 
the  drama.  Critics  have  marveled  at  the  effectiveness 
of  his  music  for  the  theater.  One  reason  for  Puccini's 
proficiency  in  this  field  is  his  eminently  practical  method 
of  composition.  Puccini  uses  a  miniature  cardboard 
stage,  on  which  are  reproductions  of  the  scenes  as  they 
are  to  be  set  and  acted.  He  moves  figures  on  and  off, 
studies  each  situation,  each  position  of  his  characters, 
and  times  his  climaxes  as  carefully  as  a  general,  in 
advance  of  an  offensive,  would  time  the  movements  of 
his  men. 

The  libretto  of  "Tosca,"  based  on  the  drama  which 
Sardou  wrote  for  Sarah  Bernhardt,  is  by  Luigi  Illica 
and  G.  Giacosa.  The  period  is  1800,  when  Rome  cow- 
ered under  the  lash  of  autocratic  tyranny.  The  Baron 
Scarpia,  chief  of  police,  rapacious,  hypocritical,  cruel, 
has  cast  his  eyes  on  the  beautiful  actress,  La  Tosca. 
Her  lover,  Cavaradossi,  an  artist,  shelters  the  escaped 
political  prisoner,  Angelotti.  Scarpia,  pursuing  An- 
gelotti,  tortures  Cavaradossi  when  he  refuses  to  betray 
his  friend,  the  while  demanding  of  Tosca  that  she  shall 
yield  herself  if  she  wishes  to  save  the  life  of  her  lover. 
Tosca,  maddened  past  endurance  by  the  groans  of 

198 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Cavaradossi,  which  issue  from  the  torture-chamber,  gives 
her  promise.  But  first,  she  insists,  a  passport  for  her 
and  Cavaradossi  to  enable  them  to  leave  Rome.  When 
Scarpia  has  written  the  passport  Tosca  kills  him  with 
a  knife.  Escaping  from  the  room  without  detection, 
she  hurries  to  tell  her  lover,  imprisoned  and  awaiting 
execution  in  the  adjoining  tower,  that  he  is  saved. 
Scarpia,  on  the  promise  of  Tosca's  favor,  had  assured 
her  that  Cavaradossi's  execution  should  be  a  mock 
one — blank  cartridges.  Instead,  the  execution  is  real. 
Cavaradossi  falls  dead.  There  sound  from  below  the 
cries  of  the  soldiers  who  have  discovered  the  murder 
of  Scarpia.  Hurrying  to  avenge  their  chief,  they  are 
just  in  time  to  behold  Tosca,  shrieking  her  defiance, 
hurl  herself  from  the  towrer  to  destruction  on  the  stones 
far  below. 

As  in  "La  Boheme,"  there  is  no  orchestral  prelude  to 
this  opera  save  three  loud,  violent  chords,  heard  as  the 
curtain  rises,  and  associated  with  the  thought  of  Scarpia. 
The  curtain  reveals  the  interior  of  the  church  of  Sant' 
Andrea  del  Valle.  Cavaradossi  is  painting  a  Madonna, 
to  whom  he  has  given  "the  dusky  glow"  of  his  black- 
eyed  Tosca,  and  the  blue  eyes  and  golden  hair  of  an- 
other. Mystery  of  art,  he  exclaims,  which  blends  the 
beauty  of  his  glorious  Tosca  and  all  others  of  her  sex 
in  one  ideal  conception.  This  is  the  occasion  for  Cavara- 
dossi's first  solo  in  Puccini's  characteristic  melodic  vein. 

"  Recondita  armonia  "  ("  Strange  harmony  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  48750 

The  Baron  Scarpia  dines  (Act  LT)  at  the  Farnese 
Palace.  He  summons  Cavaradossi,  then  Tosca,  and 
before  the  eyes  of  the  woman  her  lover  is  led  into  the 
torture-chamber.  With  a  malevolence  equal  to  his  out- 
ward courtesy  Scarpia  questions  Tosca,  who,  maddened, 

199 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

springs  to  her  feet — "Assassin!  How  much?"  Scarpia 
laughs.  "My  enemies  have  called  me  venal,  greedy  of 
gold."  The  price?  Nothing  less  than  Tosca  herself, 
who  must  surrender  to  the  tyrant,  if  Cavaradossi  is  to 
live.  Scarpia's  passion  is  only  inflamed  by  the  disgust 
and  abhorrence  with  which  his  victim  receives  his  pro- 
posal. This  increases  her  fascination  for  him  and  his 
pleasure  in  merciless  brutality.  Outside  sound  the 
drums  wrhich  will  lead  Cavaradossi  to  his  execution. 

Tosca  kneels  to  make  her  prayer.  It  is  the  most 
popular  melody  in  the  opera.  "My  life  I've  lived  for 
love  and  art.  I  have  not  harmed  a  human  being. 
Father  in  heaven,  do  not  forsake  me  now." 

"  Vissi  d'arte  e  d'amor  "  ("  For  love  and  art  I've  lived  ") 
Sung  by  Emmy  Destinn 
Columbia  Record  A  5587 

Cavaradossi  (Act  III),  condemned  to  be  executed  at 
dawn  in  the  tower,  is  writing  a  last  farewell  to  Tosca. 
To  a  sobbing  Italian  melody  he  remembers  the  shining 
stars  and  the  faint  perfume  of  flowers  on  another  night 
when  he  clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

"  E  lucevan  le  stelle  "  ("  Then  shone  forth  the  stars  ") 

Sung  by  Giovanni  Zenatello 

Columbia  Record  A  5359 

"Tosca"  was  first  performed  in  Rome,  January  14, 
1900. 

How  much  is  a  composer  to  be  identified  with  his 
music?  Puccini  did  not  compose  "Tosca"  with  a  dag- 
ger in  one  hand  and  a  bottle  of  Caesar  Borgia  poison  in 
the  other.  Quite  the  contrary!  There  is  a  page  of  the 
manuscript  score  of  "Tosca"  in  which  the  musician, 
apparently  at  a  stop  in  his  inspiration  or  momen- 
tarily tired  of  his  task,  sketched  a  skull,  cross-bones, 
and  a  rooster.  When  the  opera  was  in  process  of  com- 


*<», 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

position  Sardou  urged  Puccini  to  play  him  the  music. 
Puccini  did  not  wish  to  show  his  score  until  it  was  com- 
pleted. But  something  was  due  the  author  of  Tosca, 
and  the  composer's  wits  relieved  the  situation.  He  sat 
down  at  the  piano,  and  improvised  such  balderdash 
as  came  into  his  head  at  the  moment.  Sardou  was 
enchanted ! 

Puccini's  fourth  important  opera  was  "Madam 
Butterfly."  The  origin  of  the  story  by  John  Luther 
Long  and  of  the  play  in  which  he  collaborated  with 
David  Belasco  was  the  tale  of  Pierre  Loti,  "Madame 
Chrysantheme."  She  was  a  real  person  who  loved 
Loti  when  he  was  in  Japan,  though  not  too  seriously. 
Saying  farewell,  she  dropped  into  the  water  a  yellow 
chrysanthemum.  But  Madam  Butterfly,  or  Cio-Cio- 
San,  as  she  was  called  by  her  own  people,  was  more  in 
earnest  when  she  married  Lieutenant  Pinkerton,  of  the 
United  States  Navy,  forsook  her  gods  for  him,  and 
fancied  that  he  had  taken  her  for  good  and  all.  When 
Pinkerton  left  her  she  waited  patiently  for  him  to  re- 
turn, as  he  had  promised,  and  see  his  child.  Only 
when  Pinkerton  touched  for  a  day  at  the  harbor  of 
Nagasaki,  with  an  American  wife  on  his  arm,  did  Butter- 
fly realize  the  truth.  Preferring  "to  die  with  honor 
when  one  cannot  live  without  dishonor,"  she  ended  her 
life  with  the  dagger  which,  at  command  of  the  Mikado, 
her  father  had  used  to  end  his. 

Composing  this  opera,  Puccini  not  only  made  use  of 
some  characteristically  Japanese  melodies,  but  also 
quoted  from  "The  Star-spangled  Banner"  during  the 
conversation  of  Pinkerton  and  Sharpless,  the  American 
consul,  in  the  first  act.  Pinkerton  tells  Sharpless  of  the 
charm  of  his  new  plaything,  Cio-Cio-San,  to  whom  he 
is  to  be  wedded,  with  Japanese  ceremonies,  this  after- 
noon. Butterfly  and  her  guests  approach  in  the  distance, 
Butterfly  leading  them  and  singing  as  she  ccir.cs  nearer. 
16  201 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

For  this  moment  Puccini  evolved  a  peculiarly  beautiful 
and  exotic  passage  of  harmony.  If  chords  could  be  said 
to  have  fragrance,  it  would  be  true  of  this  music. 

"  Ancora  un  passo  "  ("  One  step  more  ") 

Sung  by  Alice  Nielsen 
Columbia  Record  A  5250 

The  wedding  ceremony  is  scarcely  over  when  Butter- 
fly's uncle,  the  priest  of  the  temple,  denounces  her  for 
faithlessness  to  her  gods.  Pinkerton  dismisses  him. 
Evening  falls.  The  little  cottage  glows  with  light,  and 
down  toward  the  harbor  a  thousand  twinkling  lanterns 
seem  to  mirror  the  stars  in  the  sky,  while  Butterfly 
and  Pinkerton  sing  passionately  of  their  love. 

Their  duet  is  the  longest  flight  of  melody  in  the  opera, 
for  the  score,  with  a  few  exceptional  passages,  is  a  mosaic 
of  short  motives  which  off-set  action  and  rapid  conversa- 
tion on  the  stage.  Puccini,  past  master  of  the  modern 
Italian  realistic  school,  can  set  any  situation  to  music. 

In  the  second  act  Butterfly  is  waiting  for  Pinkerton. 
"One  fine  day,"  she  sings,  a  line  of  smoke  will  be  seen 
in  the  sky,  a  cannon  will  boom  in  the  harbor,  and  the 
ship  cast  anchor.  Butterfly  will  hide,  as  Pinkerton 
approaches,  to  tease  him  a  little  and  that  her  heart 
may  not  break  for  joy.  In  the  first  act  Butterfly  is  a 
girl.  Her  song  of  the  second  act  comes  from  the  heart 
of  a  woman. 

"  Un  bel  di  "  ("  One  fine  day  ") 

Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle  Columbia  Record  49571 

Sung  by  Tamaki  Miura,  soprano  Columbia  Record  49260 

A  gun  sounds  over  the  water,  and  through  the  glasses 
Pinkerton's  ship  is  seen.  Butterfly  attires  herself  in 
her  wedding  garments  and,  with  her  child  by  her  side, 
watches  through  the  night  for  Pinkerton.  Exhausted 

by  her  vigil,  thus  far  fruitless,  she  is  not  present  when 

202 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Pinkerton,  with  Sharpless,  arrives.  When  she  learns  the 
truth  the  stoicism  of  her  race  comes  to  her  aid.  She 
faces  stonily  the  American  wife  of  Pinkerton,  and  even 
agrees  to  give  up  her  child  that  he  may  live  in  the 
country  across  the  seas.  Having  dismissed  her  servant, 
Suzuki,  she  takes  the  dagger  from  its  sheath,  kisses  the 
blade,  and,  as  Pinkerton  and  Sharpless  burst  in,  joins 
the  gods  of  her  fathers. 

Principal  melodies  from  this  opera  may  be  found  in 
the  following  orchestral  arrangement: 

Selections  from  "  Madam  Butterfly  " 

Metropolitan  Opera  House  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6094 

"Madam  Butterfly"  was  first  performed  in  1904  at 
La  Scala,  Milan.  Puccini  came  to  New  York  in  1907 
to  superintend  the  Metropolitan  production,  which  took 
place,  after  previous  American  productions  by  Henry 
Savage,  on  February  llth  of  that  year.  One  evening 
he  attended  a  performance  of  Belasco's  "Girl  of  the 
Golden  West" — a  play  of  ranches,  "Injuns,"  "'forty- 
niners";  a  girl  bartender  for  a  heroine;  a  renegade 
cowTboy  for  a  hero,  a  sheriff  with  a  silk  hat,  boiled 
shirt,  and  cigar  as  the  villain  of  the  show.  At  the 
climax  of  this  drama,  Minnie,  the  bartender,  plays  poker 
for  the  life  of  her  man,  who  is  wounded  and  helpless 
in  the  loft  above,  and  wins.  Puccini  said  he  intended  to 
set  the  play  to  music.  In  1910  he  came  again  to  New 
York,  to  supervise  the  first  performance  in  any  theater 
of  "The  Girl."  Puccini  was  eminently  successful  in  this 
score  in  setting  to  music  everything  that  happened  on 
the  stage,  such  as  the  galloping  of  horses,  the  noise  of  a 
storm,  etc.  He  used  a  melody  of  the  Zufii  Indians,  a 
motive  in  ragtime  supposed  to  portray  the  baser  side  of 
the  character  of  Johnston,  the  hero,  and  other  themes 
meant  to  provide  local  and  historical  color.  As  a 

203 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

tour  de  force  the  music  surpassed  everything  Puccini 
had  done  before.  As  an  artistic  achievement,  however, 
there  was  a  division  of  opinion,  despite  the  wonders 
of  the  orchestration — the  score  is  scarcely  surpassed 
in  this  respect  by  any  modern  work — and  the  advanced 
character  of  the  harmony. 

What  are  the  things  which  have  made  Puccini  success- 
ful and  prosperous  to  a  degree  seldom  attained  by  a 
composer?  First  of  all,  he  has  evolved  a  type  of  melody, 
sensuous,  long-lined,  richly  harmonized,  which  has  fas- 
cinated opera-goers  the  world  over.  Secondly,  he  has 
a  genius  for  the  theater,  and  is  one  of  the  most  skilful 
and  progressive  musicians  of  to-day. 

Puccini  works  and  plays  at  Torre  del  Lago,  a  beau- 
tiful estate  on  the  shores  of  a  large  lake  in  the  mountain- 
ous regions  of  northern  Italy.  This  has  been  his  home 
since  his  early  successes.  Here  he  finished  "  La  Boheme  " 
and  "Madam  Butterfly."  Here  he  repairs,  whether 
to  create  an  opera  or  to  fish  and  hunt  over  the  country- 
side. For  Puccini  is  neither  a  recluse  nor  a  dreamer. 
Men  and  women,  the  realities  of  modern  life,  interest 
him  more  than  books  and  theories.  The  reasons  for  his 
popularity  are  not  far  to  seek.  The  man  who  is  in 
touch  with  the  world  about  him  will  seldom  fail  to  gain 
its  approbation. 


PIETRO  MASCAGNI 

THINGS  grow  quickly  in  the  hot  Italian  soil,  and 
this  is  as  true  of  opera  as  it  is  of  vegetation.  To 
the  Italian  composer  the  intellectual  toil  and  travail 
of  the  musician  of  a  more  northern  clime  is  not  only 
unnatural  but  often  impossible.  The  Italian  either  has 
or  has  not  the  inspiration  for  a  lasting  work  of  art. 
If  he  has,  he  does  the  thing  at  once,  or  he  is  unlikely 
to  do  it  at  all. 

This  is  true  not  only  of  such  composers  as  Rossini 
and  Bellini,  but  of  younger  Italians  of  the  present  day. 
They  are  gentlemen  of  "temperament."  Exceptions 
may  be  noted.  But  consider  the  fortunes  of  Mascagni, 
composer  of  "Cavalleria  Rusticana"  ("Rustic  Chiv- 
alry"), born  at  Leghorn,  December  7,  1863. 

Pietro  Mascagni  is  the  son  of  an  Italian  baker,  born 
with  genius,  who  determined,  against  the  wishes  of  his 
father,  to  follow  a  musical  career.  He  resolved  to  take 
lessons  secretly.  His  father  discovered  this,  and  Pietro 
was  saved  from  a  mortal  beating  by  a  kind-hearted 
uncle  who  took  him  into  his  house  and  let  him  com- 
pose. The  uncle  was  not  thanked  for  this  by  his 
brother,  but  probably  felt  recompensed  by  his  pride  in 
hatching  a  composer. 

Pietro  then  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Count 
Florestano  de  Larderel,  a  wealthy  amateur,  who  paid 
for  his  tuition  at  the  Milan  Conservatory.  At  the  Con- 
servatory Pietro  was  a  failure.  He  had  more  music  in 
him  than  concentration  or  self-control.  He  would  not 
work  with  regularity.  Being  the  kind  of  man  who 

205 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

acts  first  and  thinks  afterward,  he  bade  his  instructors 
an  insolent  farewell,  left  the  Conservatory,  joined  a 
traveling  Italian  opera  company,  married,  barnstormed, 
starved.  Defying  the  butcher,  in  direst  want,  he  com- 
peted for  a  prize  offered  by  the  music-publishing  house 
of  Sonzogno,  finished  in  eight  days  the  score  of  "Caval- 
leria  Rusticana,"  and  awoke  world-famous. 

Italian  opera  audiences  are  not  phlegmatic.  They  are 
pleased  or  ardently  displeased.  In  the  latter  instance, 
hisses,  catcalls,  carrots,  riots.  In  the  former,  demon- 
strations of  joy  and  delirium,  tears  and  cheers,  the  com- 
poser carried  out  of  the  theater  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
audience,  taken  home  in  a  carriage  drawn  by  the  en- 
thusiastic populace  instead  of  beasts  of  burden,  serenades, 
flowers,  pandemonium.  But  in  all  the  annals  of  Italian 
opera  there  are  few  occasions  which  equaled,  in  the  dis- 
play of  popular  enthusiasm,  the  opening  performance 
of  "Cavalleria  Rusticana"  at  the  Costanzi  Theater, 
at  Rome,  May  18,  1890.  The  opera  went  far  beyond 
Italy.  All  over  the  world  it  was  received  with  open 
arms.  An  older  man  than  Mascagni,  then  in  his  twenty- 
seventh  year,  would  have  been  pardoned  for  the  increase 
of  self -appreciation  which  has  since  been  his. 

The  drama  from  which  the  libretto  of  "Cavalleria" 
is  made  is  a  story  of  Sicilian  peasant  life,  by  Verga.  It 
was  a  story  of  stories  to  inspire  a  musician  of  Mascagni's 
disposition  and  tendencies  —  no  philosophy,  but  the 
tremendous  realities  of  passion.  Two  peasant  women 
of  Italy  fight  over  a  man,  and  the  result  is  a  killing. 
The  music  did  not  flow  from  Mascagni's  pen;  it  ex- 
ploded like  the  eruption  of  a  volcano. 

The  story  is  very  simple,  like  most  of  the  primal 
things  of  life.  Turiddu,  a  youth  of  the  village,  went 
to  the  wars.  He  was  then  the  lover  of  Lola.  When  he 
returned  Lola  had  become  the  wife  of  Alfio,  the  carter. 
Turiddu  consoled  himself  with  the  trusting  Santuzza, 

206 


MASCAGNI,  1863 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

but  in  his  heart  was  more  than  ever  smitten  with  the 
coquettish  and  intriguing  Lola,  as  fickle- tempered  as  him- 
self. In  Mascagni's  overture  the  instruments  sigh  and 
moan  and  exult  as  they  play  the  prelude  in  which  is 
expressed  the  contrasting  emotions  of  the  drama,  and 
the  curtain  rises  on  the  square  of  a  Sicilian  village. 

It  is  before  dawn  on  Easter  Sunday.  Turiddu  is 
returning  from  the  wars.  His  voice  is  heard  coming 
nearer  and  singing  passionately  of  the  beauty  of  Lola. 

Villagers  gather  in  the  square.  Lucia,  mother  of 
Turiddu,  questions  Santuzza  as  to  his  whereabouts. 
"Hush!"  is  Santuzza's  hurried  warning  as  Alfio  appears. 
She  knows  the  truth  too  well.  Those  on  the  stage 
kneel  to  sing  the  Easter  hymn.  It  is  a  dramatic  passage 
— the  swelling  chorus  of  peasants,  the  responses  of  the 
choir  in  the  church,  the  "asides"  of  the  conscience- 
stricken  Santuzza,  imploring  pardon  for  her  sin. 

"  Rejoice,  for  Our  Saviour  still  liveth  " 
Sung  in  English  by  Columbia  Opera  Chorus 
Columbia  Record  A  5824 

Lucia  and  Santuzza  are  alone,  and  the  kindness  of 
Lucia,  who  resumes  her  questions  about  her  son,  finally 
wrings  from  Santuzza  the  truth. 

Abandoned  and  betrayed,  she  bares  her  soul.  To-day, 
twenty-two  years  after  its  first  performance,  and  wher- 
ever or  however  it  is  interpreted,  the  music  Mascagni 
found  for  the  Sicilian  peasant  woman  wrings  the  heart. 

"  Voi  lo  sapete  "  ("  Well  thou  knowest  ") 
Sung  by  Rosa  Ponselle 
Columbia  Record  49570 

Lucia,  overwhelmed  by  this  revelation,  goes  to  pray. 
Turiddu,  coming  to  meet  Lola  at  the  service,  is  con- 
fronted by  Santuzza.  She  reproaches  him  bitterty.  He 
is  unyielding.  A  gay  fragment  of  song  heralds  the  ap- 
proach of  Lola,  who  exchanges  barbed  civilities  with 

207 


Santuzza,  throws  a  rose  and  a  languishing  glance  at  her 
lover,  and  goes  into  the  church.  With  an  elemental  in- 
tensity, a  coarseness  of  the  soil,  an  abruptness  and  fury 
of  which  only  the  genius  of  a  Mascagni  would  be  capable, 
this  scene  is  reflected  in  the  music.  Turiddu  repulses  the 
woman  who  clings  to  him  and  implores  his  compassion. 

"  Tu  qui  Santuzza  "  ("  Thou  here,  Santuzza  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Gay  and  Giovanni  Zenatello 

Columbia  Record  A  5426 

The  insulted  Santuzza  cries  as  he  disappears,  "Your 
Easter  shall  be  bitter;  that  I  swear."  Turning,  she  faces 
Alfio.  She  tells  him  everything,  and  Alfio  vows  revenge 
on  the  soldier.  On  this  turmoil  of  passion  the  curtain 
falls,  and  the  incomparable  intermezzo  comes  like  a 
cooling  breath  from  the  orchestra.  What  must  have 
been  the  emotions  of  the  audience  which  heard  this 
music  for  the  first  time! 

"  Intermezzo  "  from  "  Cavalleria  Rusticana  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra  Columbia  Record  A  5871 

Played  by  Kathleen  Parlow  Columbia  Record  A  5908 

The  villagers  come  from  the  church,  Turiddu  and  Lola 
careless  of  what  fate  may  bring.  Turiddu  invites  the 
company  to  drink,  as  Alfio  appears.  The  men  confront 
each  other.  Alfio  challenges  Turiddu.  Turiddu,  facing 
his  doom,  calls  to  his  mother  and  sobs  in  her  arms  like 
a  child.  Some  have  thought  the  music  of  Mascagni  in 
this  place  sentimental.  But  the  Italian  peasant  is  always 
a  child,  and  it  is  probable  that  Mascagni  is  nowhere 
truer  to  nature  than  the  musical  accents  in  which 
Turiddu  cries,  "Mamma!  mamma!"  begs  the  blessing  of 
Lucia,  and  wildly  confronts  his  fate. 

The  end  comes  swiftly,  and,  for  an  exception  in  real- 
istic opera,  off-stage.  Distant  cries  are  heard.  Excited 
villagers  appear.  Alfio  has  killed  Turiddu.  To  crashing 
chords  of  the  orchestra  the  curtain  falls. 

208 


RUGGIERO  LEONCAVALLO 

KJGGIERO  LEONCAVALLO,  the  composer  of 
"Pagliacci,"  is  not  only  a  musician,  but  a  man  of 
considerable  literary  knowledge,  and  advanced  in 
his  attitude  toward  his  art.  He  dreamed  of  composing 
a  trilogy  of  operas  on  the  subject  of  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance, when  Italy  was  the  leader  of  the  world  in  art, 
in  thought,  and  in  budding  republican  ideals.  He  strug- 
gled with  this  dream  for  years,  during  which  he  went 
through  the  most  trying  and  extraordinary  adventures. 
His  funds  gave  out  and  he  had  to  make  a  living  as  a 
concert  pianist.  In  this  capacity  he  traveled  in  Ger- 
many, Belgium,  Holland,  Egypt,  Turkey,  Greece — 
making  money  here,  losing  it  there,  and  sketching  out 
the  music  of  the  first  of  the  three  operas. 

He  was  playing  in  a  cafe  in  Cairo  when  his  uncle, 
Leoncavallo  Bey,  as  he  was  called  there,  secured  Rug- 
giero  an  invitation  to  play  at  the  court  of  the  Khedive. 
He  was  received  with  favor  and  was  appointed  musician- 
in-ordinary  to  the  brother  of  the  Egyptian  Viceroy. 
Later,  Arabi  Pasha  promised  the  composer  the  position 
of  director  of  the  Egyptian  military  bands.  All  would 
have  been  well  had  it  not  been  for  the  battle  of  Tel-el- 
Kebir,  in  consequence  of  which  the  person  of  the  direc- 
tor of  the  military  bands  was  no  longer  safe.  It  was 
then,  with  the  quick-wittedness  born  of  despair,  that 
Leoncavallo  disguised  himself  as  an  Arab  and  fled  to 
Ismailia,  on  the  back  of  a  camel.  Has  the  reader  ever 
ridden  a  camel?  He  should  try  it,  if  only  to  learn  all 

209 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

that  Leoncavallo,  a  stout  man,  underwent  on  that  event- 
ful night  of  his  career! 

Leoncavallo  was  born  in  Naples,  March  8,  1858. 
His  father  was  Judge-President,  and  his  mother  the 
daughter  of  a  well-known  Neapolitan  painter.  Ruggiero 
studied  at  the  Naples  Conservatory  and  undertook  his 
first  concert  tour  at  the  age  of  sixteen. 

Having  finished  the  libretto  and  the  music  of  the  first 
opera  of  his  trilogy,  "I  Medici,"  he  took  the  work  to 
the  Ricordi  publishing-house  for  sale.  Ricordi  was 
pleased  with  the  idea  and  the  poem.  A  year  later  the 
music  was  completed.  Ricordi  did  not  like  it  and  re- 
fused to  perform  the  opera.  Probably  he  was  right. 
In  any  case,  his  indifference  sent  Leoncavallo  over  to 
the  rival  publishing-house  of  Sonzogno  and  to  the 
triumph  of  his  career. 

The  success  of  "Cavalleria  Rusticana"  had  con- 
vinced Leoncavallo  that  for  the  time,  at  least,  short  and 
realistic  operas,  rather  than  vast  philosophical  music- 
dramas,  would  command  the  attention  of  the  public.  He 
turned  from  history  and  philosophy  to  life  itself  when  he 
wrote  text  and  music  of  "Pagliacci"  ("Clowns"),  which 
won  a  sweeping  triumph  when  produced  at  the  Teatro 
dal  Verme,  Milan,  May  21,  1892. 

There  is  shown  on  the  stage  a  play  within  a  play,  the 
principal  characters  being  members  of  a  wandering 
troupe  of  Italian  comedians.  At  first  the  play  is  a 
comedy,  but  it  quickly  develops  that  the  passions  of 
the  actors  are  real,  not  feigned,  and  the  lines  spoken  on 
the  stage  within  a  stage  become  the  expression  of  genu- 
ine emotions  which  lead  to  the  final  tragedy. 

How  truly  Leoncavallo  had  drawn  from  life  was 
shown  when  he  was  accused  by  Catulle  Mendes  of  hav- 
ing stolen  his  plot  from  Mendes'  drama,  "La  femme 
de  tabarin,"  a  work  first  performed  in  1887.  Mendes 
threatened  suit  against  the  composer  for  infringement 

210 


LEONCAVALLO,  1858 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

of  copyright.  The  astonishing  fact  then  developed  that 
Leoncavallo's  opera  was  based  on  an  incident  which 
actually  occurred  in  Calabria  in  1865,  years  before 
Mendes'  drama  saw  the  light.  In  that  year  an  Italian 
player  killed  his  wife,  during  a  performance,  for  actual 
infidelity  too  closely  resembling  the  actions,  in  the 
drama,  of  a  character  she  impersonated;  and,  as  fate 
would  have  it,  the  case  was  brought  to  trial  before  the 
very  court  over  which  Leoncavallo's  father  was  pre- 
siding magistrate!  Sentenced  to  a  long  term  of  im- 
prisonment, the  murderer  cried  out  in  the  court-room: 
"I  do  not  repent.  I  would  do  it  again."  Leoncavallo 
added,  in  his  reply  to  Mendes,  that  if  the  dramatist 
desired  he,  Leoncavallo,  could  produce  his  witness,  in 
the  person  of  the  slayer,  who  had  recently  completed 
his  term,  and  was  on  hand  to  testify  in  the  composer's 
defense. 

The  most  famous  passage  in  the  opera  is  the  prologue, 
sung  by  the  clown,  Tonio,  who  puts  his  head  through 
the  curtain  before  it  rises  and,  in  song,  addresses  the 
audience.  To  a  remarkable  accompaniment,  now  gro- 
tesque and  humorous,  now  somber  and  tragic,  the  clown 
informs  the  audience  that,  although  actors  may  seem 
to  be  born  only  to  amuse  others  with  their  motley  garb 
and  antics,  they,  too,  suffer.  "We  are  men  and  wom- 
en," he  says,  "like  yourselves — one  God,  one  heaven 
above  us,-  one  great,  lonely  world  before  us.  Listen, 
then,  to  the  story,  as  it  unfolds  itself.  Come  on" — he 
turns  about — "come  on.  Ring  up  the  curtain." 

Prologue  from  "  Pagliacci  " 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Columbia  Record  49180 

The  clown  disappears.  The  curtain  rises.  To  the 
shouts  of  the  villagers  the  actors  enter  in  a  donkey- 
cart,  Canio,  the  leader  of  the  troupe,  beating  a  drum; 

211 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Tonio,  the  misshapen  clown,  diving  about  distributing 
handbills  with  grotesque  buffoonery;  Nedda  sitting  in 
the  cart.  The  villagers  greet  them.  One  suggests  to 
Canio  that  Tonio  looks  too  kindly  on  his  wife.  Canio, 
honest,  impulsive,  ardently  devoted  to  her,  scouts  the 
idea,  though  he  cannot  put  it  entirely  from  his  mind. 
There  have  been  several  little  incidents  on  the  route — 
he  laughs,  first  merrily,  and  then  a  trifle  bitterly.  It 
would  be  dangerous,  he  says,  for  anyone  to  try  that 
game,  for  the  stage  and  life  are  different  things.  In 
the  evening  they  will  see  a  comedy  between  Harlequin, 
the  lover,  Columbine,  the  wife,  Punchinello,  the  hus- 
band. In  the  plot  it  will  pass,  but  if,  in  real  life,  Har- 
lequin should  act  so  freely,  there  would  be  a  different 
ending.  The  villagers  depart  to  a  swinging  chorus: 

Bell  Chorus,  "  Come  on,  let's  go  " 

Sung  (in  English)  by  English  Opera  Chorus 

Columbia  Record  A  5924 

Nedda  is  left  alone.  Tonio  makes  brutal  love  to  her. 
She  puts  a  whip  across  his  shoulders.  Tonio  retreats, 
vowing  vengeance.  He  has  been  watching  Nedda,  and 
knows  she  has  an  admirer  hanging  about.  This  admirer 
now  appears — Silvio.  There  is  a  love-scene  as  he  im- 
plores Nedda  to  flee  with  him. 

The  revengeful  Tonio  brings  Canio  to  the  spot. 
Canio  pursues  Silvio,  who  escapes.  Nedda  refuses  to 
tell  the  name  of  her  lover.  Canio  vows  that  he  will 
find  him,  and  only  the  intervention  of  Beppe,  a  minor 
member  of  the  troupe,  saves  Nedda  from  his  revenge. 
Beppe,  making  peace,  reminds  them  that  it  is  time  to 
dress  for  the  play.  Canio  is  as  one  bereft  of  reason. 
He  has  now  to  act — to  laugh,  to  leap,  to  be  a  fool  for 
the  people.  This  is  the  essence  of  the  tenor  aria, 

"Vesti  la  giubba"  and  "Ridi,  Pagliacco."     "Laugh," 

212 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

shouts  the  desperate  Canio.     "Laugh,  O  player,  though 
sorrow  be  eating  your  heart." 

"  Vesti  la  giubba  "  ("On  with  the  motley  ") 
Sung  by  Hipolito  Lazaro 
Columbia  Record  49020 

The  tragedy  comes  swiftly.  At  nightfall  the  villagers 
gather  to  see  the  play.  A  little  stage  is  set  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  great  scene.  Nedda  is  the  Columbine;  Canio 
is  the  supposedly  stupid  husband,  Punchinello;  Tonio 
is  the  sly  lover,  Harlequin.  Columbina  and  Harlequin 
are  together,  holding  high  festival,  while  Punchinello 
is  away.  Punchinello  is  heard  approaching.  Harlequin 
disappears.  Punchinello  demands  the  name  of  his  wife's 
admirer,  which  she  refuses  to  tell.  Canio,  in  his  dis- 
guise, is  now  talking  of  his  own  tragedy,  and  with  such 
intensity  that  the  audience  of  peasants  is  excited  to 
the  top  pitch  of  enthusiasm.  What  acting! 

Nedda,  terror  clutching  her,  sees  murder  in  the  eyes 
of  her  husband.  Suddenly  Punchinello  seizes  a  knife 
on  the  table  and  stabs  Columbine  to  the  heart.  Ap- 
palled, the  villagers  realize  that  this  is  no  comedy,  but 
a  fearful  crime.  The  first  to  rush  forward  is  Silvio, 
Nedda's  lover,  who  has  been  one  of  the  audience.  Canio 
turns  like  a  flash,  and  Silvio  also  falls.  Ganio  stares 
before  him;  the  knife  drops  from  his  hand.  "The 
comedv,"  he  says,  in  an  awed  voice — "the  comedy  is 
ended/' 

Like  Mascagni,  Leoncavallo  remains  to  the  great  pub- 
lic a  man  of  one  opera.  Many  works  have  come  from 
his  pen  since  "Pagliacci,"  but  none  have  commanded 
long-sustained  or  world-wide  attention.  Reviewers  have 
spoken  highly  of  Leoncavallo's  "La  Boheme,"  a  subject 
which  the  composer  has  accused  Puccini  of  stealing 
from  him.  Music  from  the  opera,  "Roland  of  Berlin," 

17  213 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

a  work  Leoncavallo  composed  at  the  order  of  Kaiser 
Wilhelm,  was  performed  when  the  musician  toured  in 
the  United  States  during  the  season  of  1906-1907.  It 
showed  'that  the  Kaiser  had  again  overrated  his  judg- 
ment. Of  the  celebrated  trio — Puccini,  Mascagni,  and 
Leoncavallo — Puccini  seems  the  only  one  to  have  passed 
the  point  of  his  first  successes.  He  is,  perhaps,  the  last 
and  greatest  of  the  Italian  realistic  school  of  composers. 
Younger  men  whose  works  show  a  more  poetic  and  ideal- 
istic trend  are  now  taking  the  stage  in  Italy. 


JULES  FREDERIC  MASSENET 

THE  late  Jules  Frederic  Massenet  was  a  man  of  his 
time  and  the  world  about  him.  He  was  not  one  of 
those  artists  who  come  into  existence  half  a  century 
or  more  ahead  of  their  period,  work  for  the  future,  and 
die  misunderstooa  or  not  wanted  by  the  majority.  He 
was  an  excellent  musician,  of  great  and  indisputable 
gifts,  an  industrious  worker  who  understood  the  tastes 
of  the  public  of  his  day  and  was  capable  of  artistic  re- 
sponse to  them. 

Massenet  came  of  thrifty  middle-class  parents.  He 
was  born  at  Monteaux,  May  12,  1842.  Some  Tyrolese 
peasants,  singing  to  his  mother  before  the  birth  of  her 
son,  prophesied  that  the  child  would  be  a  musician. 

His  father  was  an  ironmaster,  in  his  youth  an  officer 
under  the  First  Empire,  who,  after  the  restoration  of 
the  Bourbons,  sent  in  his  resignation,  established  iron- 
works, and  invented  a  huge  hammer  of  extraordinary 
power.  "So,  to  the  sound  of  heavy  hammers  of  brass, 
as  the  ancient  poet  says,  I  was  born."  The  quotation  is 
from  Massenet's  autobiography. 

A  Vulcan  of  music,  however,  he  was  not  destined  to 
be.  His  music  was  tender,  melodious,  sentimental, 
lending  itself  well  to  the  purpose  of  the  composer  in 
the  many  operas  in  which  he  sang  of  woman  and  love. 
Thais,  Mary  Magdalene,  Salome,  Manon,  Griselidis, 
these  and  other  of  the  noble  dames  of  history  and  legend 
were  the  heroines  and  the  musical  inspiration  of  Jules 
Massenet. 

Massenet's  parents  were  not  in  easy  circumstances. 

215 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

When,  as  a  boy  of  eleven,  he  was  taken  to  the  Paris 
Conservatoire,  it  was  necessary  to  be  industrious  and 
thrifty.  Jules  worked  hard  at  that  institution  and  was 
broken-hearted  when  his  parents  told  him,  after  two 
years'  study,  that  he  would  have  to  return  with  them 
to  St.-Etienne. 

Twice  he  ran  away  from  home  and  was  brought  back 
in  a  destitute  condition.  His  flights  were  always  in  the 
direction  of  Paris  and  the  musical  institute.  His  deter- 
mination impressed  his  parents  so  much  that  they  per- 
mitted him  to  live  with  his  aunt  at  the  French  capital 
and  return  to  the  Conservatoire. 

Massenet  got  a  chance  to  play  first  the  triangle 
and  then  the  kettle-drums  in  a  theater  three  evenings  in 
the  week,  at  a  fee  of  fifty  cents  an  evening.  He  also 
played  on  Fridays  in  orchestral  concerts  at  the  Cafe 
Charles.  All  this  was  invaluable  experience  for  him. 
He  was  growing  up  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  playhouse, 
where  he  was  soon  to  come  into  his  own.  He  obtained 
the  Grand  Prix  in  1863  and  left  for  Rome  in  the  same 
year.  Jules  Valles  remembered  him  at  this  time  as  "a 
youth  with  long  blond  hair  and  deep  eyes.  Though 
a  mere  boy,  he  inspired  respect  in  us  by  his  unremit- 
ting hard  work.  He  was  as  regular  as  a  pendulum, 
sitting  down  before  the  piano  each  day  at  the  same 
hour." 

Greatly  influenced  by  the  beauty  of  the  Italian 
country,  Massenet  ceased  to  be  merely  a  musician,  a 
specialist  in  tones.  He  felt  the  emotion  of  art.  He 
came  to  believe  in  using  the  eye  as  well  as  the  ear  in 
composing.  He  once  cautioned  a  Swedish  student  who 
came  to  him  for  lessons  to  observe  his  own  mountains, 
fjords,  and  peasantry.  "Out  of  these  you  must  make 
music." 

Saint-Saens  thus  epitomized  the  genius  of  Massenet, 
"Massenet's  Muse  is  a  virtuous  personage  who  does 

216 


MASSENET,  1842-1912 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

nothing  against  her  conscience,  but  she  loves  to  please 
and  she  puts  flowers  in  her  hair." 

Massenet  did  not  undergo  a  long  evolution  as  a  com- 
poser, and  some  of  his  happiest  inspirations  were  the 
products  of  early  years.  The  "Elegie"  is  a  song  taken 
from  he  incidental  music  to  Leconte  de  Lisle's  antique 
drama,  "Les  Erinnyes"  ("The  Furies"),  composed  in 
1873.  This  song,  it  may  be  admitted,  is  not  Greek — 
the  drama  was  based  on  the  "Orestia"  of  ^Eschylus — 
but  wholly  French  in  its  spirit.  Its  melancholy  has  an 
unexplained  charm.  It  might  be  a  reminiscence  of  the 
happy  days  described  in  a  classic  French  romance,  or 
painted  elegantly  on  a  fan  of  Watteau,  or  preserved  in 
the  perfume  of  an  old  love-letter. 

"  Elegie,  "  from  "  Les  Erinnyes  " 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari 

Violin  obligate  by  Sascha  Jacobsen 

Columbia  Record  49333 

Massenet  produced  his  first  opera,  "La  Grand  Tante," 
in  1867,  but  his  first  lyrical  drama  to  go  outside  of 
France  was  his  "Herodiade,"  an  opera  of  "biblical 
names,  Oriental  scenery,  and  French  romance,"  treat- 
ing of  the  wife  of  Herod,  and  of  Salome  of  biblical  lore. 
Salome  (Act  I)  searches  for  her  mother,  Herodias,  from 
whom  she  has  long  been  separated  and  whom  she  does 
not  know  by  name.  She  has  a  pure  devotion  for  John 
the  Baptist,  who  saved  her  from  a  beast  in  the  desert. 
She  sings  to  Phanuel  of  the  goodness  of  the  prophet. 

"  n  est  doux,  il  est  bon  "  ("  Kind  is  he,  and  good  ") 

Sung  by  Mary  Garden 
Columbia  Record  A  5289 

Herod  pursues  Salome.  Herodias  demands  the  head 
of  the  prophet,  who,  she  says,  insulted  her.  Salome 
tells  John  of  her  adoration  for  him,  and  John  exhorts 

217 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

her  to  love  but  one — God.  The  thought  of  Salome 
(Act  II)  haunts  the  mind  of  Herod.  Surrounded  by 
slaves,  he  tosses  restlessly  on  his  couch.  He  can  think 
only  of  her,  and  this  is  the  occasion  for  the  amorous 
air,  beloved  of  barytones,  "Vision  Fugitive" — the  vision 
that  leaves  Herod  no  peace. 

"  Vision  Fugitive  "  ("  Fleeting  Vision  ") 

Sung  by  Louis  Graveure  Columbia  Record  A  5792 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle  Columbia  Record  A  5734 

Before  the  very  Holy  of  Holies,  Herod  offers  his  love 
to  Salome  who  repulses  him  with  horror.  Herod  orders 
the  death  of  both  John  and  Salome.  John  is  executed. 
Salome,  appalled  by  the  discovery  that  Herodias  is  her 
mother,  takes  her  own  life. 

"Herodiade"  was  produced  December  19,  1881,  at 
the  Theatre  de  la  Monnaie,  Brussels.  Three  years 
and  a  month  elapsed  between  the  appearance  of  this 
work  and  what  will  probably  rank  as  Massenet's 
finest  achievement,  his  opera,  "Manon,"  book  by 
Meilhac  and  Gille  (Opera  Comique,  January  19,  1884). 
His  inspiration  was  the  famous  tale  of  the  Abbe  Prevost. 
The  Abbe  Prevost  was  a  strange  man.  As  a  youth 
his  father,  after  a  misdemeanor,  threatened  to  shoot 
him  if  he  did  not  enter  the  priesthood.  The  son  took 
orders.  He  wrote  ponderous  and  learned  tomes  on 
theological  and  philosophic  subjects.  They  molder 
on  the  shelves,  but  one  little  romance,  which  sprang 
straight  from  the  heart  of  the  man,  a  romance  which 
it  is  fair  to  consider  in  a  large  degree  autobiographical, 
has  taken  its  place  among  the  celebrated  masterpieces 
of  literature.  This  romance  is  Manon  Lescaut,to  which 
Massenet,  Auber,  Puccini,  and  others  have  written  music. 
Of  them  all,  Massenet  has  come  nearest  to  the  eighteenth- 
century  atmosphere  of  the  tale.  The  elegance,  the  ar- 
tistic superficiality  of  the  age,  the  gaiety,  tinged  with 

218 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

melancholy,  which  is  observed  in  much  of  the  art  and 
literature  of  this  period,  are  often  present  in  his  music. 
It  was  Meilhac,  the  librettist,  who  suggested  the  theme. 
Taking  up  the  book  of  Manon  Lescaut  from  the  table, 
he  said  to  Massenet,  "There's  a  charming  subject  for 
an  opera  and  a  charming  name." 

"Call  it  simply  'Manon,'"  said  Massenet;  "that's 
better!" 

The  matter  was  settled.  Massenet  went  at  once,  in- 
cognito, to  The  Hague,  and  composed  the  opera  in  the 
same  scenes  as  those  in  which  the  Abbe  Prevost  had 
written  the  story. 

Des  Grieux  and  Manon  (Act  I)  meet  in  the  courtyard 
of  the  inn  at  Amiens.  Manon  is  a  beautiful  and  un- 
sophisticated country  girl,  but  she  is  ripe  for  adventure. 
The  two  go  to  Paris.  Des  Grieux  writes  his  father,  ask- 
ing permission  to  marry  Manon.  Meanwhile  Lescaut, 
the  rascally  cousin  of  Manon,  assists  De  Bretigny,  a 
wealthy  nobleman  who  has  cast  his  eyes  on  the  girl,  to 
lure  her  from  the  side  of  Des  Grieux.  Manon  is  warned 
that  Des  Grieux's  father  will  never  consent  to  their 
union,  and  that  it  will  be  to  her  interest  to  join  his  rival. 
Des  Grieux  comes  back  from  posting  the  letter  to  his 
father.  "Listen,  Manon!  On  my  way  I  dreamed  the 
sweetest  dream."  To  a  murmuring  accompaniment  of 
the  orchestra  he  narrates  his  vision.  This  is  one  of  the 
loveliest  of  Massenet's  inspirations,  of  happiness  with 
his  adored.  This  happiness,  alas,  is  never  to  be.  The 
father  of  Des  Grieux  is  determined  to  save  his  son  from 
consequences  of  folly;  temptation  has  successfully  as- 
sailed Manon.  Alas!  the  moment,  so  tragic  for  both 
the  lovers,  is  near.  Des  Grieux  is  kidnapped,  and  Manon, 
in  tears,  goes  to  join  De  Bretigny. 

Manon  meets  Des  Grieux's  father  (Act  III)  at  the  fete 
of  the  Cours  de  la  Heine,  and  learns  that  her  unhappy 
lover  is  taking  orders.  Curiosity,  a  perverse  love  of 

219 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

conquest,  an  impulse  of  genuine  affection — who  knows 
what — is  stirred  in  the  capricious  girl.  She  hastens  to 
the  church  of  St.-Sulpice.  Des  Grieux  is  seen  clad 
in  his  clerical  garb,  fighting  with  himself  against  the 
passion  which  still  possesses  him. 

Suddenly  Manon  is  before  him.  Des  Grieux  tries  in 
vain  to  resist  her.  She  was  never  lovelier,  more  im- 
passioned, more  triumphant  in  her  beauty.  "Am  I 
not  Manon?"  she  cries.  He  forgets  all,  and  she  throws 
herself  into  his  arms. 

Manon  and  Des  Grieux  live  by  their  wits,  and  Des 
Grieux  (Act  IV)  is  accused  by  De  Bretigny  of  cheating 
at  cards.  At  his  instigation,  both  the  lovers  are  arrested 
as  swindlers.  Des  Grieux's  father  saves  him,  but  will 
not  intercede  for  Manon.  Manon,  condemned  to  be 
transported  to  America,  meets  her  lover  for  the  last 
time  (Act  V)  on  the  road  to  Havre.  In  his  arms  she 
recalls -their  flight  to  Paris,  the  trip  along  the  road,  the 
little  home  they  loved  so  well,  the  black  priest's  robe  of 
St.-Sulpice,  and  the  music  makes  vivid  these  memories. 
And  so  she  dies — Manon,  the  unfortunate,  the  incom- 
prehensible, the  hapless  daughter  of  joy. 

In  1885  George  Hartman  drew  Massenet's  attention 
to  Goethe's  "  Werther"  as  material  for  an  opera,  and  the 
composer  was  fascinated  with  the  subject.  The  plot 
was  taken  from  Goethe's  famous  novel:  the  love  of 
Werther  for  Charlotte,  already  another's;  Charlotte's 
fidelity  to  her  vows,  despite  her  growing  love  for  Werther; 
Werther's  suicide  and  Charlotte's  grief. 

This  was  the  material  of  Goethe's  romance,  which 
fascinated  all  Europe.  Napoleon  took  the  novel  with 
him  to  Egypt.  In  some  cities  it  was  hawked  about  in 
the  streets.  In  China,  Charlotte  and  Werther  were 
modeled  in  porcelain.  Werther  "gave  birth  to  a  race 
of  sentimentalists  who  have  raged  and  wailed  in  every 
part  of  the  world." 

220 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

At  the  first  rehearsal  of  the  opera  Massenet  was  so 
excited  that  he  sat  at  the  piano  "and  began,"  in  his  own 
words,  "to  cry  like  a  woman." 

George  Kestner,  a  grandson  of  the  Charlotte  who  in- 
spired Goethe's  tale,  committed  suicide  the  night  when 
"Werther"  was  first  performed  in  the  Imperial  Opera 
House,  Vienna,  February  16,  1892. 

In  the  year  1902  there  was  produced  on  the  18th  of 
February,  at  Monte  Carlo,  "Le  Jongleur  de  Notre 
Dame"  ("The  Juggler  of  Notre  Dame").  In  this  opera 
there  were  originally  no  women  characters.  Only  male 
singers  took  part.  Massenet  welcomed  the  subject 
since,  always  sensitive  to  criticism,  he  had  been  an- 
noyed at  reproaches  leveled  at  him  because  of  his  pre- 
vailing choice  of  women  rather  than  men  for  his  heroes, 
and  his  predilection  for  sentimental  subjects. 

Anatole  France  WTote  an  ironical  tale  of  Thai's  and  the 
monk,  Paphnuce,  who  dreamed  of  redeeming  her. 
Paphnuce  went  to  Alexandria.  He  exhorted  the  woman, 
and  took  her,  repentant,  to  a  convent  in  the  desert. 
Thai's  died  in  the  arms  of  God.  But,  alas!  her  image 
had  wrought  havoc  in  the  soul  of  the  monk.  Across 
mountain  and  valley  he  sped,  and,  crouching  by  the 
bedside  of  the  dying  woman,  implored  her  to  be  his. 
"A  sinner,"  to  cite  the  excellent  Henry  T.  Finck,  "be- 
came a  saint,  and  a  saint  became  a  sinner." 

The  first  scene  of  the  opera  shows  the  monk  Athanael 
(the  operatic  equivalent  of  Paphnuce  of  the  original 
tale)  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  seeing  in  a  vision  Thai's, 
before  an  eager  throng,  miming  the  rites  of  Aphrodite. 
Athanael  swears  that  he  will  save  her  soul.  In  his 
monk's  robes  he  comes  to  the  house  of  Nicias  in  Alexan- 
dria, a  gay  and  generous-hearted  voluptuary,  a  friend 
of  Athanael's  youth,  and  a  patron  of  Thai's.  Alone  on 
the  terrace  of  Nicias'  mansion,  looking  over  the  beau- 
tiful and  wicked  city,  Athanael  prays  God  to  keep  his 

soul  pure  and  aid  him  in  his  holy  mission. 

221 


THE   LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"  Voila  done  la  terrible  cite  "  ("  Behold  the  terrible  city  ") 
Sung  by  Hector  Dufranne 
Columbia  Record  A  5558 

There  follows  the  diverting  scene  in  which  the  maids 
of  Thais,  Crobyle  and  Myrtale,  divest  Athanael  of  his 
monk's  robes  and  clothe  him  in  a  manner  befitting  a 
guest  in  the  festival  at  which  Thais  is  soon  to  show 
herself.  Thais,  confronted  by  the  monk,  is  impressed,  but 
does  not  understand  his  tale  of  love  eternal.  She  awaits 
him  (Act  II,  Scene  1)  in  her  chamber,  invokes  the  spirit 
of  Venus,  and  when  Athanael  appears  bids  him  welcome 
in  the  name  of  the  goddess  she  serves.  Suddenly  the 
monk,  grand  and  terrible  in  his  holy  wrath,  throws  from 
his  shoulders  the  gorgeous  cloak  which  covers  his  religious 
habit,  and,  with  the  fury  of  the  fanatic,  warns  Thais  of 
the  evil  to  descend  on  her  if  she  does  not  alter  her  life 
and  seek  God. 

Athanael  leaves  the  chamber  saying  that  he  will  wait 
through  the  night  on  the  door-step  of  Thais'  palace  for 
the  moment  of  her  repentance  and  expiation.  It  is 
when  the  curtain  falls  on  this  scene  that  the  orchestra 
plays  the  popular  "Meditation" — melodious,  sensuous 
music  of  love  rather  than  of  religion,  which  is  supposed 
to  tell  of  the  change  taking  place  in  the  soul  of  the 
woman. 

Meditation  from  "  Thais  " 

Played  by  Kathleen  Parlow,  violinist 

Columbia  Record  A  5843 

Emerging  from  her  dwelling  in  the  morning,  Thais 
(Act  II,  Scene  2),  in  the  garb  of  a  penitent,  asks  the 
monk  if  she  may  preserve  a  small  antique  image  of 
Eros,  an  exquisite  piece  given  her  by  Nicias,  "for  love 
is  a  virtue  rare." 

"  L' Amour  est  une  vertu  rare  "  ("  Love  is  a  rare  virtue  ") 

Sung  by  Mary  Garden 
Columbia  Record  A  5440 

222 


This  is  the  first  moment  in  which  the  monk  betrays 
the  love  and  jealousy  which,  unknown  to  himself,  are 
in  his  breast.  He  snatches  the  statue  from  her.  "Nicias !" 
he  cries — "Nicias!  Curse  the  source  whence  comes  this 
gift!  Destruction  upon  it!"  He  dashes  the  statue  in 
pieces  on  the  ground. 

The  two  encounter  a  group  of  revelers  who  seek  to 
attack  Athanael  and  take  Thais  from  his  side,  but  the 
generous  Nicias  aids  them  to  escape  from  the  throng 
and  make  their  way  across  the  desert  to  a  convent, 
where  Thai's  is  received  as  a  chastened  penitent.  The 
two  scenes  of  the  last  act  are  separated  by  an  orchestral 
intermezzo.  The  first  shows  Athanael  again  in  the 
camp  of  his  brethren  on  the  Nile,  tossing  feverishly  on 
his  couch,  and  suddenly  agitated  by  a  vision  of  Thais 
at  death's  door.  The  intermezzo  is  supposed  to  describe 
his  anguished  flight  to  her  side.  The  final  scene  is  the 
death  of  Thais,  radiant  with  the  vision  of  approaching 
salvation,  while  the  miserable  Athanael  grovels  at  her  feet. 

The  death  of  Massenet,  on  the  13th  of  August,  1912, 
was  the  passing  away  of  a  composer  whose  music  is 
indispensable  to  the  operatic  repertory  of  the  present 
day.  Some  have  called  him  the  French  Puccini,  but 
it  is  hardly  a  just  comparison.  Puccini  has  been  less 
versatile  and  far  less  prolific  than  Massenet,  but  more 
progressive  in  the  development  of  his  style.  Massenet 
wrote  too  quickly  to  produce  an  unbroken  series  of 
masterpieces,  although  there  is  hardly  an  opera  of  his — 
"Thais"  is  musically  one  of  the  thinnest  of  them  all— 
which  does  not  contain  at  least  an  air  or  a  scene  which 
shows  true  creative  talent.  He  often  said  that  melody 
was  the  basis  of  music,  "as  the  good  earth  is  beneath 
everything." 

Massenet  produced  over  thirty  works  for  the  stage, 
a  few  of  which  were  not  published.  He  was  an  indus- 
trious and  systematic  workman.  He  never  undertook 


THE   LURE    OF    MUSIC 

the  writing  out  of  a  passage  until  it  was  perfectly  clear 
in  his  mind. 

It  may  be  said  that  he  wrote  his  life,  his  thoughts, 
his  very  habits  into  his  music.  His  scores  contain  many 
written  entries,  such  as  "cloudy  weather,"  " Charpentier 
has  won  the  Prix  de  Rome,"  etc.  He  used  to  wear  a 
red  bathrobe  when  composing,  which  he  called  "hom- 
arder,"  "homard"  being  the  French  word  for  lobster. 

Massenet  was  one  of  the  best  known  and  loved  men 
in  Paris — not  only  in  the  studio  and  theater,  but  in  the 
street.  Cab-drivers,  chauffeurs,  flower-sellers,  paper- 
boys, and  street  children  hummed  and  whistled  airs 
from  his  works  as  he  passed  them.  This  greatly  pleased 
him,  for  he  was  a  kindly  man  who  never  rebuked  with- 
out following  with  a  compliment  or  word  of  praise. 
With  women,  as  his  music  might  indicate,  he  was  courte- 
ous and  gallant  to  a  fault.  He  would  assure  a  charming 
pupil  that  she  suggested  a  melody,  immediately  impro- 
vising the  theme  on  the  piano. 

In  short,  Massenet's  art  was  himself,  as  the  work  of 
every  serious  artist  must  be,  whether  he  intends  it  or 
not;  what  was  good  in  him  and  what  was  poor;  what 
was  strong  and  what  was  weak;  what  was  cheap  and 
what  was  gold. 


CAMILLE  SAINT-SAENS 

THE  career  of  Camille  Saint-Saens  is  a  singular 
problem.  He  is  beyond  doubt  one  of  the  great- 
est French  composers  of  to-day.  He  is  also  an 
inveterate  traveler;  a  curious  student  of  astronomy, 
archeology,  mathematics;  a  critic,  essayist,  and  play- 
wright; a  frequenter  of  distinguished  society,  every 
inch  a  Parisian  and  man  of  the  world.  His  versatility 
is  matched  by  the  apparently  incurable  restlessness  of 
his  mind.  A  series  of  literary  essays  embraces  subjects 
ranging  all  the  way  from  spiritualism  to  the  resonance 
of  bells.  He  has  composed  with  brilliant  success  in 
practically  all  of  the  forms  and  styles  open  to  the  com- 
poser of  to-day.  Yet  there  is  a  strange  lack  of  the 
personal  element  in  his  art.  Who,  what,  it  may  still 
be  asked,  is  the  essential,  inner  Saint-Saens?  That 
question  he  has  never  answered.  He  has  been  content 
to  achieve  a  prodigious  mastery  of  his  medium,  to  pro- 
duce music  distinguished  equally  by  the  logic  and  finish 
of  its  workmanship,  to  charm,  to  entertain,  to  be  a  great 
artist  without  becoming  a  heavy  one. 

Saint-Saens  will  have  his  little  joke.  Of  irreproach- 
able demeanor  in  public,  this  fine  gentleman  was  never 
so  irresistible  as  when  he  impersonated  Marguerite,  sur- 
prised by  the  jewels,  in  Gounod's  "Faust,"  or  La  Belle 
Helene  in  Offenbach's  operetta  of  that  name,  when 
Bizet,  composer  of  "Carmen,"  took  the  tenor  role  of 
Calchas!  In  the  "Carnaval  des  Animaux"  ("The  Ani- 
mals' Carnival")  Saint-Saens  imitated  with  grotesque 
effect  the  gruntings,  squealings,  howlings  of  various 
creatures  of  the  animal  kingdom! 

225 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

It  was  in  the  same  composition,  however,  that  he 
waxed  poetic,  in  the  case  of  his  exquisite  little  piece, 
"The  Swan."  How  suggest  in  music  a  swan?  A  young 
modern  composer  would  have  written  a  symphonic 
poem  on  the  subject.  It  will  be  seen  that  Saint-Saens 
has  communicated  simply,  but  with  admirable  art,  the 
mood  that  might  be  inspired  by  the  sight  of  the  beau- 
tiful, stately  bird,  floating  serenely  on  the  surface  of 
the  water,  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening.  This  was  the 
only  one  of  the  pieces  in  the  "Carnaval  des  Animaux" 
which  Saint-Saens  allowed  to  be  published. 

"  The  Swan  "  ("  Le  cygne  ") 

Played  by  Pablo  Casals,  'cellist 

Columbia  Record  49796 

Saint-Saens,  born  in  Paris,  October  9,  1835,  com- 
menced to  play  the  piano  almost  as  soon  as  he  learned 
to  walk.  He  could  tell  as  a  small  child  the  notes  struck 
by  all  the  clock  chimes  in  the  house,  and  remarked  one 
day  that  a  person  in  the  next  room  was  "walking  in 
troches" — that  is,  in  a  certain  rhythm  which  he  recog- 
nized. Later  on  Saint-Saens  became  at  the  Conserva- 
toire a  pupil  of  Halevy  and  Reber  in  composition,  and 
was  for  a  time  a  private  pupil  of  Gounod.  At  seven- 
teen he  had  already  a  reputation  as  a  pianist.  Von 
Biilow  was  thunder-struck  at  his  talent,  and  Liszt 
selected  Saint-Saens  to  play  with  him  his  "Mephisto 
Waltz"  at  the  Zurich  Festival  in  Switzerland  in  1882. 

It  was  in  emulation  of  Liszt,  the  originator  of  the 
form,  that  Saint-Saens  wrote  his  four  symphonic  poems, 
"Danse  Macabre"  ("Dance  of  Death"),  "Le  Rouet 
d'Omphale"  ("Omphale's  Spinning-wheel"),  "Phae- 
ton," after  the  story  of  the  rash  charioteer  of  the  heav- 
ens, and  "La  Jeunesse  d'Hercule"  ("The  Youth  of 
Hercules"). 

The  "Danse  Macabre"  was  inspired  by  a  poem  of 


18 


SAINT-SAENS,  1835-1921 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Henri  Cazalis.  In  his  poem,  Death,  his  bony  heel 
tapping  the  measure,  fiddles  for  the  ghosts  who  dance 
at  midnight  in  the  graveyard.  The  winds  howl  and  the 
specters  leap  about  in  their  winding-sheets.  The  dance 
grows  wilder  until  the  cock  crows,  the  specters  disperse, 
and  the  place  is  again  safe  for  honest  men.  In  the 
music,  Death  is  heard  tuning  his  fiddle.  There  are 
strange  orchestral  effects.  A  bell  tolls  (flutes  and  harp). 
A  horn  echoes  the  crow  of  the  cock.  There  is  a  brief 
reminder  of  the  music  of  the  goblins  as  they  disappear. 

"  Danse  macabre  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  1836 

This  music  is  witty,  in  the  Gallic  manner,  rather  than 
terrible.  The  composer's  seriousness  is  none  too  certain. 
Perhaps  Saint-Saens,  as  the  bones  rattle,  is  laughing  at 
us.  But  the  symphonic  poem  "Omphale"  is  perfectly 
charming.  The  thought  is  of  Omphale' s  spinning-wheel 
as  it  whirls  under  her  fingers,  and,  in  the  middle  part  of 
the  piece,  the  protests  of  mighty  Hercules,  seated  at  the 
lady's  feet,  her  humble  and  devoted  slave.  There  is  the 
suggestion  of  the  movement  of  the  wheel,  and  a  coquet- 
tish mood  throughout. 

"  Le  Rouet  d'Omphale  "  ("  Omphale's  Spinning  ") 

Played  by  the  French  Symphony  Orchestra 

(Societe  des  Concerts  du  Conservatoire) 

Conductor,  Andre  Messager 

Columbia  Record  A  6087 

Saint-Saens's  one  opera  to  gain  an  important  position 
in  the  operatic  repertory  is  "Samson  and  Delilah."  This 
opera  was  performed  under  the  patronage  of  Liszt  in 
Weimar,  December  2,  1877.  It  has  an  important  distin- 
guishing quality  as  contrasted  with  almost  all  the  other 
music  of  Saint-Saens.  It  is  often  emotional;  there  are 

227 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

passages  of  elemental  feeling.  Delilah  stands  out,  a  gor- 
geous, commanding  figure.  Samson  is  any  heroic  tenor, 
with  one  or  two  expressive  airs.  The  other  characters  in 
the  opera  are  of  minor  importance,  but  the  music  of 
Delilah  reflects  her  beauty  and  her  appeal  to  Samson. 

This  opera,  which  is  now  like  modern  music-drama  and 
now  like  oratorio  (it  is  performed  with  almost  equal 
frequency  on  the  concert  stage  and  in  the  theater) ,  opens 
with  an  agitated  orchestral  introduction,  in  which  the 
music  mounts  to  a  climax  and  then  subsides,  wrhile,  as 
the  curtain  rises,  the  Hebrews  sing  the  lament,  "God, 
Israel's  God."  Samson  steps  forward,  exhorting  his 
people  to  have  courage,  to  remember  the  passage  of  the 
Red  Sea  and  other  marks  of  the  favor  of  Jehovah,  to 
hold  firm  together  and  strike  for  freedom. 

Abimelech,  satrap  of  Gaza,  advances  to  quell  the  dis- 
turbance. Samson  kills  him  and  escapes  with  his  follow- 
,ers.  The  High  Priest  of  Dagon  emerges  from  the  temple. 
Learning  that  Samson  is  inciting  the  Hebrews  to  rebel- 
lion, he  curses  the  strong  man,  his  people,  and  his  God. 
The  body  of  Abimelech  is  removed.  The  Hebrews  re- 
turn, Samson  at  their  head.  Then  Samson  is  confronted 
with  a  more  insidious  foe  than  satrap  or  high  priest. 
Delilah  comes  upon  him,  followed  by  a  train  of  maidens, 
who,  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  passages  of  the  opera, 
sing  of  youth  and  of  springtime  and  love.  Delilah  takes 
up  the  theme,  and  Samson,  warned  hi  vain  by  an  elder, 
is  aflame  with  her  beauty. 

"  Printemps  qui  commence  "  ("  Joyous  now  doth  Spring  come  forth  ") 

Sung  by  Maria  Gay 
Columbia  Record  A  5280 

A  storm  (echoed  in  the  orchestra)  is  gathering  as  the 
curtain  rises  for  the  second  act.  Delilah,  waiting  for 
Samson,  who  has  more  than  once  escaped  her,  shows 
that  she  is  actuated  by  a  desire  for  revenge  rather  than 

2£8 


THE   LURE   OF   MUSIC 

by  love.    "O  love,  aid  my  weakness,"  is  her  cry,  and 
this  cry  forebodes  disaster  for  Samson. 

"  Amour,  viens  ma  faiblesse  "  ("  Love,  lend  me  thine  aid  ") 

Sung  by  Jeanne  Gerville-Reache 

Columbia  Record  A  5533 

The  High  Priest  enters  to  offer  Delilah  what  price 
she  cares  to  ask  for  delivering  Samson  into  his  hands. 
The  woman  of  Sorek,  counting  her  vengeance  dearer 
far  than  any  gold  or  power,  is  contemptuous  of  the 
learning  of  the  Priest,  which  has  not  enabled  him  to 
read  her  heart.  Samson  arrives.  There  follows  the 
love-scene  and  the  irresistible  song  of  Delilah,  one  of  the 
most  expressive  and  popular  of  modern  airs  for  contralto. 

"  Mon  coeur  s'ouvre  a  ta  voix  "  ("  My  heart,  at  thy  dear  voice  ") 
Sung  by  Maria  Gay  Columbia  Record  A  5280 

Sung  by  Jeanne  Gerville-Reache  Columbia  Record  A  5533 

Samson,  undone  by  Delilah's  fascination,  is  over- 
powered by  the  Philistines.  The  most  salient  features 
of  the  last  act  are  the  despondent  lament  of  Samson, 
as,  full  of  remorse  for  his  weakness,  he  labors  at  the 
treadmill  of  the  Philistines,  and  the  grand  "Bacchanale" 
in  the  Temple  of  Dagon,  which  precedes  the  destruction 
of  the  revelers.  In  the  composition  of  this  wild  Oriental 
dance  Saint-Saens's  acquaintance  with  the  East  served 
him  well.  The  wailing  cry  of  an  oboe  with  which  the 
dance  opens,  the  thudding  of  drums  and  tinkling  of 
various  pulsatile  instruments,  the  strange  rhythms  heard 
singly  and  in  combination,  make  a  superb  piece  of 
ballet  music. 

"  Danse  Bacchanale,"  from  "  Samson  et  Delilah  " 

Played  by  Chicago  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5903 

"Local  color,"  such  as  that  shown  in  the  "Baccha- 
nale" from  "Samson,"  is  a  subject  on  which  Saint- 

229 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Saens  has  made  many  musical  observations.  Traveling 
in  southern  Europe,  for  example,  he  wrote  "Nuit  a 
Lisbonne,"  "Jota  Aragonesa,"  "Rhapsodic  d'Auvergne." 
In  the  second  movement  of  his  fifth  piano  concerto  he 
employed  songs  of  the  boatmen  of  the  Nile.  In  his 
"Suite  Algerienne"  he  records  impressions  of  northern 
Africa,  though  it  may  be  admitted  that  the  following 
"Marche  Militaire,"  if  Saint-Saens  heard  it  played  by 
natives,  was  performed  by  those  who  had  learned  their 
lessons  of  European  bandmasters. 

"  Marche  Militaire,"  from  "  Suite  Algerienne  " 

Played  by  New  York  Philharmonic  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5998 

Saint-Saens's  versatility,  faithfully  reflected  in  his 
music,  has  sometimes  been  held  against  him.  Said 
Edmond  Schure: 

"  One  could  say  of  Mr.  Saint-Saens :  *  He  never  changes 
his  style.  He  practises  all  with  equal  ease.'  It  would 
be  impossible  to  define  the  individuality  that  is  ob- 
served in  the  whole  body  of  his  works.  .  .  .  Try  to  grasp 
him,  lo!  he  is  changed  into  a  siren.  Are  you  under  the 
spell?  He  turns  himself  into  a  mocking-bird.  Do  you 
think  you  hold  him  at  last?  He  mounts  to  the  clouds 
as  a  hippogriff!" 

It  is  true  that  Saint-Saens  has  studied  and  assimilated 
the  characteristics  of  many  schools  of  music,  old  and 
new;  that  he  has  cast  his  genius  in  a  multitude  of  molds; 
that  he  prefers  to  be  impersonal  in  his  art.  But  these 
are  not  his  only  characteristics.  First  of  all,  there  is  his 
love  of  a  clear  and  ordered  beauty;  his  understanding  of 
this  principle  in  the  works  of  great  masters  who  have 
lived  before  him;  his  modesty  and  good  taste  in  desir- 
ing to  speak  only  of  fine  things  in  his  music,  and  this 
with  as  little  fuss  and  feathers  as  possible.  Also,  there 
is  his  genuine  independence  of  mind.  Saint-Saens  may 

230 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

have  entertained  himself  with  this  or  that  experiment. 
He  may  have  pondered  thoughtfully  and  appreciatively 
the  artistic  discoveries  of  this  or  that  school,  and  applied 
them  in  his  works.  As  a  young  man  he  was  censured 
because  of  his  enthusiastic  adherence  to  the  standards 
of  Liszt  and  other  composers,  then  considered  dangerous. 
But,  after  all,  he  has  remained  aware  of  his  own  convic- 
tions, his  own  mission  as  an  artist.  To-day,  the  younger 
men,  the  wilder  spirits,  call  Saint-Saens  a  hopeless  con- 
servative. He  can  afford  to  smile.  What  has  he  not 
done  for  music  in  France?  After  Berlioz,  who  called  him, 
in  1867,  "One  of  the  greatest  musicians  of  our  era," 
Saint-Saens  is  the  first  to  have  promoted  the  cause  of 
instrumental  and  symphonic  composition  in  his  own 
country,  to  have  drawn  composers  in  France  out  of 
dangerous  ruts  of  provincialism.  Before  him  the  French 
musician  dreamed  of  one  kind  of  success — the  success, 
too  often  superficial,  of  the  theater  and  opera  house. 
Saint-Saens  has  solidified  the  whole  musical  develop- 
ment of  modern  France.  He  can  rest  secure  on  his 
laurels.  Few,  indeed,  have  undertaken  so  much,  suc- 
ceeded so  well,  given  pleasure  to  so  many.  His  work  is 
lasting  testimony  to  his  achievement  as  artist  and  man. 


MODERN  FRENCH  COMPOSERS 

MODERNITY  is  a  matter  of  the  spirit  far  more 
than  of  the  letter.     There  are  modern  qualities, 
despite  its  traditions  of  a  day  that  is  past,  in 
Bizet's     "Carmen,"     produced    in     1875.     Massenet's 
"Thai's"  (1894)  is  an  older  work.     Camille  Saint-Saens, 
alive  at  time  of  writing  and  active  in  the  service  of  his 
art,  must  be  ranked  as  a  conservative  by  the  side  of 
Claude  Achille  Debussy,  who  died  in  1918,  or  Cesar 
Franck,  who  died  in  1890. 

A  modern  of  moderns,  though  he  died  still  later,  was 
Emmanuel  Chabrier.  We  never  heard  his  Homeric 
laughter.  We  never  encountered  the  extravagant  ges- 
tures, the  gallant  bearing,  the  outlandish  hats,  and  the 
gorgeous  waistcoats  in  which  he  delighted.  We  were 
not  the  passer-by  who,  one  evening  when  Chabrier  was 
entertaining  Saint-Saens,  Massenet,  and  others  chosen 
by  the  gods,  shouted  from  the  pavement,  "If  I  were 
your  landlord  I  should  be  too  happy  to  ask  you  for 
rent."  Those  days  are  past.  But  we  have  Chabrier's 
music. 

The  whole  man  is  reflected  in  his  art.  His  irresistible 
gaiety,  his  nervous  vigor,  his  passionate  temperament, 
animate  everything  that  he  writes.  He  is  a  man  of 
extremes,  discontented  with  the  comfortable  or  ortho- 
dox, delighting  in  the  strangest  instrumental  combina- 
tions, the  most  audacious  effects.  His  orchestra  flashes 
with  a  thousand  colors,  some  as  bizarre  as  those  that 

232 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Chabrier  liked  to  wear,  others  glowing  with  the  soft 
and  exquisite  beauty  of  the  rainbow.  His  music  is 
restless.  It  is  never  in  repose.  Its  rhythms  and  its 
power  sweep  everything  before  it.  For  electric  energy 
and  dramatic  spirit  there  is  no  music  like  it. 

Visiting  Spain,  Chabrier  wrote  his  orchestral  rhap- 
sody, "Espafia,"  a  work  of  extraordinary  esprit.  The 
composer  saw  the  dancers,  the  dark  eyes,  the  flashing 
smiles,  the  tiny  heels  that  tapped  the  rhythm.  "The 
music  whirls  along  in  rapid  time.  Spangles  glitter; 
the  sharp  click  of  ivory  and  ebony  castanets  beats  out 
the  cadence  of  strange,  throbbing,  deafening  notes — 
assonances,  unknown  to  music,  but  curiously  charac- 
teristic, effective,  intoxicating.  Amid  the  rustle  of  silks 
smiles  gleam  over  white  teeth,  dark  eyes  sparkle  and 
droop,  and  flash  up  again  in  flame.  'Ole!  Ole!'  Faces 
beam  and  eyes  burn.  'Ole!  Ole!'" 

All  this  may  be  found  in  the  gay,  scintillating  music 
of  Chabrier. 

"  Espana  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  5677 

Chabrier,  born  at  Ambert,  January  18,  1841,  studied 
law.  But  music  fascinated  him.  He  had  inborn  talent 
for  the  piano,  and  a  marvelous  left  hand.  Alfred 
Bruneau,  critic  and  composer,  said  that  "the  spectacle 
of  Chabrier  stepping  forward,  in  a  parlor  thick  with 
elegant  women,  toward  the  feeble  instrument,  and  per- 
forming ' Espana'  in  the  midst  of  fireworks  of  broken 
strings,  hammers  in  pieces  and  pulverized  keys, 
was  a  thing  of  unutterable  drollery,  which  reached  epic 
proportions." 

The  gaiety  and  humor  cf  Chabrier,  extravagant, 
audacious,  keen-edged,  are  further  shown  in  his  Scherzo- 
Valse  arranged  for  the  violin.  It  was  well  said  of  this 
composer  that  he  knew  how  to  be  "vulgar  in  good 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

taste"!  His  musical  humor  savors  at  times  of  the 
farce  and  impudence  of  the  Parisian  guttersnipe,  but, 
like  that  guttersnipe  whom  Hugo  immortalized  in  "Les 
Miserables,"  it  has  wit  and  distinction. 

Scherzo-Valse 
Played  by  Eugen  Ysaye 
Columbia  Record  36514 

But  Chabrier  was  an  unlucky  man.  Neither  his 
"Gwendoline"  nor  his  later  opera  comique,  "Le  Roi 
Malgre  Lui"  ("The  King  in  Spite  of  Himself"),  was 
successful  in  his  lifetime.  And  at  the  last  a  cruel 
paralysis  smote  both  mind  and  body.  As  a  result  he 
had  to  leave  unfinished  beautiful  fragments  of  what 
promised  to  be  his  greatest  work,  the  opera  "Briseis." 
Chabrier  died  September  13,  1894.  He  had  advanced 
well  toward  his  thirties  before  composing  to  any  extent. 
He  began  to  create  music  too  late,  and  was  forced,  ap- 
parently by  an  unkind  destiny,  to  cease  too  soon. 

In  a  short  time  and  in  a  few  works  he  compressed  the 
essence  of  an  incomparable  talent. 

Gustave  Charpentier  is  a  lover  of  life — not  life  at  a  dis- 
tance or  as  viewed  by  artists  who  wear  kid  gloves — but 
life  as  it  is,  and  especially  that  of  the  common  people. 

Living  in  the  Montmartre  district  of  Paris,  the  quar- 
ter of  working-girls,  students,  laborers,  criminals,  he 
wrote:  "I  love  the  life  which  surrounds  me,  this  life  of 
the  street  and  of  the  humble.  I  feel  it  profoundly  lyric. 
At  certain  moments  of  great  emotion  I  behold  it  trav- 
ersed by  lightning,  by  a  mighty  current  of  marvelous, 
fairylike  beauty.  I  have  tried  to  transfer  my  emotion 
to  my  art." 

The  parents  of  Charpentier,  who  was  born  at  Dieuze, 
Alsace-Lorraine,  June  25,  1860,  moved  to  Turcoing  after 
the  Franco-Prussian  War.  Gustave  had  lessons  in  "sol- 

234 


CHABRIER,  1842-1894 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

fege"  and  the  violin,  and  to  support  himself  worked  in 
a  factory.  There  he  organized  an  orchestra  of  work- 
men. The  proprietor,  much  interested  in  his  talent, 
sent  Charpentier  to  the  Conservatoire  at  Lille.  He  ad- 
vanced so  rapidly  that  the  municipality  of  Turcoing 
voted  him  a  pension  to  study  in  Paris.  Charpentier 
entered  the  Paris  Conservatoire  in  1881,  was  taken  out 
for  a  period  of  military  service,  became  on  his  return 
a  pupil  of  Massenet,  and  gained  the  Prix  de  Rome  in 
1887  with  his  cantata,  "Didon." 

It  was  during  his  sojourn  at  the  Villa  Medici  in  Rome 
that  Charpentier,  inspired  by  the  beauty  and  sunshine 
about  him,  produced  the  first  work  which  justly  charac- 
terized his  genius  and  made  him  a  figure  to  be  reckoned 
with  in  the  musical  world.  This  was  the  suite  of  short, 
melodious  pieces  for  orchestra  entitled  "Impressions 
d'ltalie"  ("Impressions  of  Italy").  In  this  suite  he 
translated  into  music  the  warmth  and  joyousness  of  the 
Italian  atmosphere. 

The  suite  is  in  five  movements.  The  first  is  the 
"Serenade,"  the  third  is  "On  Muleback."  For  these 
pieces  the  composer  wrote  his  own  explanation,  which 
we  cannot  do  better  than  quote. 

"  Serenade  "  (No.  1)  and  "  A  Mules  "  ("  On  Muleback  ")  (No.  3) 

From  "  Impressions  d'ltalie  "  ("  Impressions  of  Italy  ") 

French  Symphony  Orchestra  (Societe  des  Concerts  du  Conservatoire) 

Columbia  Record  A  6101 

"SERENADE":  "It  is  nearly  midnight.  Coming  out 
from  the  osterie,  the  young  fellows  of  the  neighborhood 
sing  low,  burning  songs,  at  times  sad,  often  with  a 
savage  accent,  under  their  betrothed's  windows.  These 
lovesick  phrases  are  answered  by  mandolins  and  guitars. 
Then  the  song  of  the  young  men  sounds  again,  and  dies 
away,  little  by  little." 

In  this  movement  the  love-song  is  first  played  by  the 

235 


violoncelli,  without  any  accompaniment.  Then  harps, 
strings,  flutes,  and  violins  give  the  effect  of  the  plunking 
of  mandolins  and  guitars. 

"ON  MULEBACK":  "Toward  evening,  along  the  road 
that  winds  through  the  Sabine  Mountains,  the  mules 
trot  at  an  even  gait,  to  the  bright  rhythm  of  their  bells. 
The  melody  of  the  violoncello  is  the  canzone,  sung  with 
full  voice  by  the  mulattiere;  and  those  sweet  thirds  of  the 
flutes  that  follow  are  the  loving  song,  murmured  by  the 
fair  girls  with  deep  eyes,  seated,  or  rather  kneeling,  in 
the  big  carts  that  go  up  toward  the  village." 

"Louise,"  produced  at  the  Opera  Comique,  Paris, 
February  2,  1900,  is  the  romance  of  a  working-girl  of 
Montmartre  and  her  lover,  Julien.  He  is  a  painter,  a 
Bohemian,  his  head  full  of  all  the  new-fangled  ideas  of 
socialism  and  the  rights  of  youth  which  were  the  stock  in 
trade  of  the  young  fellows  of  Charpentier's  early  days. 
Louise  succumbs  to  the  spell  of  Paris.  Against  the  com- 
mands of  her  father  and  mother,  she  leaves  her  home  and 
lives  with  Julien.  Later  she  implores  forgiveness  of  her 
parents,  and  returns  to  them,  but  the  life  of  the  simple 
household,  after  her  experience  of  love  and  the  great 
city,  revives  her  discontent.  The  city  calls  her  back  to 
its  arms.  Julien  implores  her  to  return  to  him.  There 
is  an  angry  scene  with  the  parents,  a  scene  of  protest 
and  revolt,  and  while  the  orchestra  hymns  the  songs  of 
Paris,  Louise  rushes  from  the  house.  The  father  shakes 
his  clenched  fist  in  the  air,  "Oh,  Paris!"  The  only  an- 
swer is  the  far-off  echo  of  one  of  the  melodies  of  the  city. 

In  the  score  Charpentier  included  with  very  graphic 
effect  a  number  of  the  street  cries  of  Paris — the  song 
of  the  old-clothes  man,  of  the  vegetable  seller,  and  other 
itinerants. 

The  beautiful  air  from  "Louise,"  "Depuis  le  Jour," 
is  heard  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  act,  as,  emerging 
in  the  morning  from  the  doorway  of  the  humble  but 

236 


CHARPENTIER,  1860 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

happy  dwelling  which  she  occupies  with  Julien,  Louise 
looks  over  the  city  of  dreams  and  recalls  with  rapturous 
emotion  the  first 'kiss  of  her  lover. 

"  Depuis  le  jour  "  ("  Since  that  fair  day  ") 

Sung  by  Mary  Garden  Columbia  Record  A  5440 

Sung  by  Hulda  Laschanska  Columbia  Record  49364 

'Charpentier's  "Julien,"  produced  at  the  Opera 
Comique,  Paris,  on  the  4th  of  June,  1913,  is  a  sequel  to 
"Louise."  It  narrates  the  further  adventures  of  the 
painter  and  the  girl.  This  work,  however,  did  not  meet 
with  the  success  which  attended  the  production  of  the 
former  opera. 

Claude  Achille  Debussy  left  the  world  music  of  unique 
and  baffling  originality.  It  is  not  easy  to  explain  or 
locate  the  original  sources  of  his  art.  True,  it  partakes 
occasionally  of  the  characteristics  of  a  known  school 
and  period,  but — where  was  he  born?  That  is,  where, 
aside  from  the  incident  of  physical  birth,  did  this  spirit 
first  become  conscious  of  its  destiny? 

It  is  true  that  the  music  of  Debussy  owns  in  several 
important  respects  to  its  French  descent.  But  there  is 
in  it  something  more,  something  mysterious,  pagan, 
antique,  which  is  the  possession  of  no  one  people.  De- 
bussy has  seen  nature  and  beauty  in  a  way  peculiarly 
his  own,  and  has  found  new  forms  of  expression.  It 
was  said  of  him  that  if  the  grass  could  be  heard  growing, 
he  would  have  set  it  to  music !  He  writes  of  the  moon- 
shine on  a  ruined  temple,  the  falling  of  autumn  leaves, 
the  play  of  wind  and  water.  What  is  most  astonishing 
is  the  fact  that  underneath  all  this  free  poetic  impres- 
sionism one  discovers  workmanship  of  unerring  logic 
and  precision.  Yet  there  are  analysts  who  deny  the 
presence  of  "form"  in  the  music  of  Debussy.  These 

would  not  sympathize  with  the  reflection  of  Plotinus: 
19  237 


THE   LURE   OF   MUSIC 

"It  is  on  this  account  that  fire  surpasses  all  other 
bodies  in  beauty,  because,  compared  with  the  other  ele- 
ments, it  obtains  the  order  of  form;  for  it  is  more 
eminent  than  the  rest,  and  is  the  most  subtle  of  all, 
bordering  as  it  were  on  an  incorporeal  nature." 

Debussy  was  born  at  Saint-Germain  (Seine  and  Oise), 
France,  August  22,  1862.  A  relative  saw  that  he  re- 
ceived piano  lessons  and  entered  the  Conservatoire  in 
1873.  He  won  the  Grand  Prix  in  1884  with  his  cantata, 
"L'Enfant  Prodigue."  In  the  same  year  he  produced 
his  delightful  and  melodious  "Petite  Suite"  ("Little 
Suite")  for  piano,  which  has  since  been  arranged  for 
orchestra.  From  this  suite  comes  "En  Bateau,"  a  bar- 
carolle of  a  deliciously  songful  character  which  betrays 
Debussy's  early  love  of  Massenet. 

"  En  Bateau  "  ("  On  the  water  ") 

From  "  Petite  Suite  "  ("  Little  Suite  ") 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6097 

It  is  said  that  when  Debussy  was  doing  his  military 
service  he  listened  attentively  to  the  overtones  which 
clashed  in  the  air  as  the  trumpet  blew  "taps"  and  the 
bells  rang  in  a  neighboring  church  tower;  that  he 
learned  much  while  accompanist  for  a  Russian  lady, 
from  the  singing  of  the  Russian  gipsies;  that  he  gained 
inspiration  from  the  score  of  Moussorgsky's  "Boris 
Godounow."  Debussy  made  an  exquisite  setting  of 
Rossetti's  poem,  "The  Blessed  Damozel"  (1888).  He 
composed  his  epoch-making  reverie  for  orchestra, 
"Prelude  a  1'Apres-midi  d'un  Faune,"  in  1892.  "Pel- 
leas  et  Melisande,"  a  music-drama  of  a  strange  and 
shadowy  beauty,  based  on  the  play  of  Maurice  Maeter- 
linck, and  one  of  the  most  significant  operas  of  recent 
times,  was  performed  at  the  Opera  Comique,  Paris, 
April  30,  1902.  Important  songs,  piano  and  orchestral 

238 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

works  followed.  The  later  Debussy  was  inclined  to 
mannerisms  and  repetitions  of  the  musical  effects  which 
had  won  him  fame  in  previous  years.  In  the  set  of 
piano  pieces  written  for  his  daughter,  "The  Children's 
Corner,"  there  are  to  be  found  charming  musical 
thoughts,  as  for  example  "The  Golliwogs'  Cake- Walk," 
an  amusing  take-off  of  American  "ragtime,"  showing 
Debussy's  ingenuity  in  imitating  this  style  and  also  the 
extent  to  which  he,  among  other  European  composers, 
has  found  it  interesting. 

Debussy  died  in  1913,  and  with  him  departed  the  most 
original  and  poetic  musical  genius  that  modern  France 
has  thus  far  produced.  He  of  course  left  many  imitators, 
and  the  musical  idioms  of  which  he  was  the  foremost 
exemplar  have  become  part  of  the  music  of  to-day. 


One  of  the  most  poetic  talents  of  the  present  day  in 
France  is  that  of  Gabriel  Faure,  born  at  Pamiers,  Ariege, 
May  13,  1845.  He  came  to  Paris  in  his  tenth  year. 
Saint-Saens  was  his  master  in  composition.  Faure's 
success  as  a  piano  teacher  at  Rennes  was  somewhat 
dimmed  by  his  being  so  attractive  a  young  man  that 
mothers  hesitated  to  intrust  their  daughters  to  him  for 
instruction!  After  serving  in  the  Franco-Prussian  War, 
Faure  became  organist  of  the  Madeleine  and  succes- 
sively teacher  of  composition  and  director  (1905)  of  the 
Paris  Conservatoire,  a  position  he  holds  at  the  time 
of  writing.  He  has  distinguished  himself  in  many 
fields,  but  in  none  more  than  in  his  original  and  poetic 
songs.  His  type  of  melody  is  peculiarly  and  exquisitely 
his  own.  One  of  the  first  compositions  to  carry  Faure's 
name  overseas  was  his  Berceuse  for  violin.  It  is  in 
the  manner  of  a  quaint  old  French  folk-song,  dreamy 

239 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

and  tender,  and  well  suited  to  the  instrument  to  which 
it  is  given. 

Berceuse  (Faure) 
Played  by  Eugen  Ysaye 
Columbia  Record  36519 

To-day  the  composers  of  France  surpass  those  of  all 
other  countries  in  the  originality  and  the  varied  char- 
acter of  their  productions.  We  have  mentioned  but  a 
few  of  an  astonishing  generation  of  creative  artists. 
These  men  have  in  the  past  quarter-century  or  more 
restored  to  French  music  the  conviction  and  the  na- 
tional spirit  which  it  had  lost,  to  a  certain  extent,  prior 
to  1870.  Disastrous  as  was  that  year  to  the  French 
nation,  it  awoke  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  a  heroic 
determination  to  vindicate  themselves,  and  to  throw 
off,  in  art  as  well  as  in  politics,  the  musical  influence  of 
Germany.  Out  of  tribulation  came  achievement  and 
selfrrealization. 


ANTONIN  DVORAK 

GREAT  men  are  simple.  The  heart  of  Antonin 
Dvorak,  the  Bohemian  genius  of  music,  was  that 
of  a  little  child. 

He  grew  up  in  a  hard  school.  His  parents  expected 
him  to  be  a  butcher,  but  his  inclination  toward  music 
was  stronger  than  any  accident  of  birth  or  circum- 
stance. No  composer  encountered  more  abject  poverty 
in  his  early  years.  A  piano  was  for  a  long  time  out  of 
the  question.  Music  paper  to  write  on  was  a  luxury. 
The  peasants  of  Bohemia,  poor  enough  in  any  case, 
were  taxed  to  the  breaking-point  by  the  Austro-Hun- 
garian  government.  With  this  government  Dvorak  and 
his  community  were  anything  but  friendly.  "To  be 
a  good  Czech,"  said  a  journalist  of  the  day,  "is  to 
be  a  good  hater  of  the  Germans.  Dvorak  is  a  good 
Czech." 

It  was  fortunate  in  more  ways  than  one  that  Dvorak 
was  in  the  bad  graces  of  those  who  ruled  him,  since 
otherwise  he  would  probably  have  been  given  a  berth 
in  some  German  city,  and  ended  his  life  a  respected 
Capellmeister  with  all  the  originality  taken  from  him 
— a  fate  which  has  overtaken  more  than  one  composer 
good  and  true.  As  it  was,  the  genius  of  Dvorak  fed 
on  the  life  and  nature  about  him.  He  wandered  on  the 
highways  and  through  the  forests  of  his  land,  listened 
to  the  songs  of  the  peasants,  and  fiddled  for  fairs  and 
weddings. 

A  peculiar  wistfulness  is  in  his  music,  a  simple,  con- 
fiding appeal  which  seems  to  have  come  not  only  from 

241 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

the  man  but  also  from  his  race.  The  peasant  suffers 
humbly  and  in  silence.  No  one  cares  enough  about 
him  to  listen  to  his  woes.  He  may  not  read  or  write. 
But  he  can  sing.  In  his  song  he  tells  Mother  Nature 
all  that  he  feels.  Dvorak  knew  neither  universities 
nor,  for  years,  languages  other  than  those  spoken  about 
him,  yet  the  word  was  given  him  which  reached  the 
ear  and  heart  of  the  world.  Once  heard,  his  melodies 
are  not  easily  forgotten.  Witness  the  dreamy  tender- 
ness and  melancholy  of  the  air  known  as  the  "Indian 
Lament." 

"  Indian  Lament  "  (Arrangement  by  Kreisler) 

Played  by  Kathleen  Parlow,  violinist 

Columbia  Record  A  5798 

Bands  of  strolling  musicians  used  to  perform  in  the 
inn  owned  by  Dvorak's  father.  It  was  with  almost  un- 
bearable excitement  that  the  boy  listened  to  these  per- 
formances. He  induced  the  village  schoolmaster  to 
teach  him  how  to  sing  and  to  play  the  violin,  and 
eventually  obtained  his  father's  permission  to  study 
music  at  Prague.  The  meager  fund  donated  by  his 
parent  gave  out,  and  Dvorak  gained  a  living  for  several 
years  by  playing  the  viola  in  orchestras  of  cafes  and 
theaters. 

He  was  deeply  stirred  at  this  time  by  the  improvisa- 
tions and  songs  of  the  gipsies.  One  of  a  series  of  "  Gipsy 
Melodies"  is  called  "Songs  my  mother  taught  me"- 
songs  which  commemorate  the  sorrows  of  a  wandering 
race.  "And  when  I  sing  these  melodies  for  my  own 
children,"  continues  the  verse,  "the  tears  rain  down 
my  brown  cheeks  also."  No  composer  could  have  writ- 
ten for  such  a  text  a  melody  simpler  and  more  touching 
than  Dvorak's.  Few  composers  in  the  history  of  music 
have  been  at  the  same  time  so  unsophisticated  and  so 

242 


DVORAK,  1841-1904 


original  in  richness  and  color  of  harmony,  melody  of 
heart-searching  eloquence,  and  variety  and  piquancy 
of  rhythms.  For  a  parallel  to  the  poignancy  and  feel- 
ing of  a  song  like  this  one  must  go  to  the  music  of  the 
American  negro,  which,  as  we  shall  see,  Dvorak  loved 
and  admired. 


"  Songs  my  mother  taught  me  " 

Sung  by  Hulda  Laschanska 

Columbia  Record  77719 

Dvorak  married  on  the  financial  basis  of  earnings  far 
from  sufficient  for  one,  still  less  for  two.  He  undertook 
every  possible  kind  of  musical  work — teaching,  playing 
the  organ,  conducting  when  the  opportunity  befell. 
In  later  years  a  friend  asked  him  how  he  managed  to 
compose  and  get  his  dinner  under  such  circumstances; 
to  which  the  composer  replied,  with  perfect  simplicity, 
that  frequently  he  did  not  get  his  dinner. 

At  first  Dvorak  created  with  reckless  haste,  for  his 
pen  could  not  keep  pace  with  the  ideas  which  thronged 
his  brain.  Nothing  seemed  impossible  for  his  genius. 
He  struck  off  compositions,  white-hot,  in  a  variety  of 
forms.  It  mattered  comparatively  little  what  the  form 
was.  The  mold  that  lay  nearest  at  hand  was  filled. 
Choral  and  orchestral  works,  songs,  instrumental 
pieces,  appeared  in  profusion.  Later,  experience  of  life 
and  of  art  commenced  to  tell.  He  thought  twice  before 
putting  pen  to  paper.  He  learned  to  use  fewer  ideas, 
and  make  more  of  them.  He  began  to  perfect  forms  of 
his  own. 

Dvorak's  fame  spread  throughout  Europe  and  pre- 
ceded him  to  America.  He  was  invited  to  visit  this 
country  in  1892  as  director  of  the  National  Conserva- 
tory of  Music  in  New  York.  There  he  composed  his 

greatest  orchestral  work;  the  "New  World"  Symphony. 

243 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

He  believed  that  our  finest  and  most  original  music 
came  from  the  negro  slaves,  and  he  incorporated  in  the 
first  movement  of  the  "New  World"  Symphony  a  frag- 
ment of  the  well-known  "spiritual,"  "Swing  Low,  Sweet 
Chariot." 

The  slow  movement  of  this  symphony,  one  of  the 
noblest  and  most  poetic  that  Dvorak  conceived,  opens 
with  majestic  chords  of  the  brass  choir,  and  these  are 
followed  by  a  haunting  melody  which  seems  to  have 
been  created  for  the  instrument  to  which  it  is  given— 
the  English  horn.  Over  the  whole  movement  broods 
the  spirit  of  forest  depths  and  virgin  solitudes. 

Largo*  from   "  New  World  "  Symphony 

Played  by  New  York  Philharmonic  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5998 

Although  Dvorak  had  created  a  masterpiece  in  this 
work,  and  employed  in  it  at  least  one  American  melody, 
it  was  contended,  with  justice,  that  it  was  not  an  Ameri- 
can symphony.  It  was  the  symphony,  as  some  one 
wittily  put  it,  of  a  homesick  Bohemian  who  based  his 
music  on  melodies  that  he  heard  about  him,  and  con- 
tinued doing  so  when  he  came  to  America.  Dvorak 
proved,  however,  that  American  melodies  could  be- 
come valuable  elements  of  symphonic  composition,  thus 
affording  a  stimulating  example  to  young  American 
composers. 

Dvorak  stayed  in  America  until  1895,  after  which  he 
returned  to  Prague  to  become  in  1901  director  of  the 
Prague  Conservatory,  a  post  which  he  held  until  his 
death.  He  was  unutterably  happy  to  be  at  home  again. 
It  is  probable  that  in  many  lonely  hours  he  would  have 
sacrificed  his  American  salary  of  fifteen  thousand  dol- 
lars a  year  to  get  back  to  his  own  people.  Not  for  him 
were  the  dirt  and  the  noise  and  the  money  of  great 

244 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

cities.  "Pan  Antonin,"  as  a  compatriot  described  him, 
"of  the  sturdy  little  figure,  the  jovial  smile,  the  kindly 
heart,  and  the  school-girl  modesty,"  was  ever  and  in- 
corrigibly himself,  whatever  he  did,  wherever  he  went. 
His  friends  were  always  laughing  at  his  simplicity  and 
guilelessness.  One  of  them  met  Dvorak  with  a  book  in 
his  hand.  What  was  he  doing?  "  Improving  my  mind," 
answered  Dvorak.  He  was  reading  a  book,  set  in  large 
type,  in  words  of  one  and  two  syllables,  for  young 
children.  It  was  said  of  him  that  he  had  three  pas- 
sions— composing,  living  in  the  country,  and  caring  for 
his  pigeons!  While  in  America  he  was  invited  to  spend 
the  summer  at  the  home  of  a  priest,  the  clinching  argu- 
ment being  the  offer  of  a  donkey,  to  be  placed  wholly 
at  the  musician's  disposal.  Dvorak  was  delighted. 
"What  a  pleasure  this  will  be,"  he  cried,  "for  my  chil- 
dren and  myself!" 

His  children!  One  suspects  that  for  them  he  wrote 
many  more  of  his  melodies  than  the  public  can  ever 
guess.  Listen  to  the  "Humoreske" — one  of  a  series 
of  compositions  so  entitled,  written  originally  for  the 
piano,  and  in  this  instance  transcribed  for  the  violin. 
It  is  a  fireside  story,  a  story  told  by  the  composer  as  he 
smiles  through  his  tears. 

"  Humoreske  " 

Played  by  Eugen  Ysaye  Columbia  Record  36908 

Played  by  Kathleen  Parlow  Columbia  Record  A  5412 

And  so  he  continued  to  the  end,  happy  with  his 
scores,  his  family,  and  chosen  friends  who  did  not  terrify 
him  with  conventions  and  ceremonies,  well  content  to 
live  simply,  work  at  the  only  craft  he  knew,  and  win 
hearts.  He  remained  from  first  to  last  a  peasant,  born 
of  his  fields  and  forests,  and  holding  close  communion 
with  them.  When  he  tried  to  compose  in  a  grand  and 

245 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

pretentious  manner,  as  in  certain  of  the  later  quartets, 
he  failed  as  completely  as  he  failed  when  he  had  to  don 
formal  garb  and  mingle  with  the  great.  He  enriched 
music  significantly  by  the  sincerity  and  individuality 
of  his  contribution  to  the  art,  and  this  art  was  the 
reflection  of  the  beauty  and  tenderness  of  his  own 
nature.  Dvorak  was  born  September  8,  1841,  and  died 
on  the  1st  of  May,  1904. 


EDVARD   GRIEG 

NORWAY  is  a  somber,  wildly  beautiful  land.  Great 
mountains,  scarred  and  cragged,  rise  straight  from 
the  sea.  Deep  fjords  have  been  graven  in  them 
by  the  action  of  the  waters,  and  in  the  winter  these 
fjords  look  like  icy  fingers  stretched  out  by  the  ocean, 
eager  to  grasp  their  prey.  The  winter  is  a  long  and 
fearsome  night  when  God  knows  what  is  abroad,  and  the 
peasants,  huddling  together  about  their  fires,  drink,  fid- 
dle, and  sing,  to  forget  the  evil  things  that  scream  in  the 
wind.  "This  is  the  land  of  which  the  outer  limits  con- 
front the  realm  where  the  old  Norse  gods  still  dwell, 
and  where,  in  the  words  of  Jonas  Lie,  'elves  and  mer- 
maids are  still  regarded  as  tame  domestic  animals.' " 

There  are  really  but  two  seasons — winter  and  summer. 
The  summer,  a  short,  sunlit  day,  has  scarcely  smiled 
before  it  is  gone,  and  because  of  its  fleeting  beauty  it 
leaves  sadness  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  know  too 
well  the  darkness,  the  cold,  the  solitudes  of  the  long 
night.  These  things  are  told  in  the  music  of  Edvard 
Grieg. 

Grieg  came  of  Scotch  ancestry.  His  great-grand- 
father's name  was  Greig,  or  Greigh.  He  was  a  native 
of  Aberdeen,  who  about  1746,  in  the  troublous  period 
of  the  wars  of  Charles  Edward  Stewart,  the  Pretender, 
left  the  land  of  his  birth  and  settled  permanently  at 
Bergen,  Norway.  There  he  changed  the  position  of  the 
vowels  in  his  name  to  conform  to  the  principles  of  Nor- 
wegian pronunciation.  His  son,  John  Grieg,  a  mer- 
chant, became  also  British  consul,  and  the  office  was 

247 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

passed  down  to  Alexander,  father  of  the  composer.  The 
mother  of  Edvard  Grieg  was  a  woman  of  culture  and 
considerable  musical  knowledge. 

Grieg  was  born  on  the  15th  of  June,  1843.  He  soon 
showed  his  disposition  for  music — not  only  music,  but 
modern  music,  to  which  he  was  to  bring  a  new,  strange, 
fascinating  beauty.  The  story  of  his  first  attempt,  as 
a  small  child,  to  play  the  piano  is  significant  as  being 
typical  of  his  artistic  originality  and  the  modern  quality 
of  his  ear.  "What  shall  prevent  me,"  says  Grieg  him- 
self in  a  delightful  reminiscence  of  his  youthful  days, 
"from  calling  back  that  wonderful  and  mysterious  con- 
tent at  discovering,  when  I  stretched  my  arms  up  to 
the  piano,  not  a  melody — that  was  too  much — no,  but 
a  harmony!  First,  two  notes;  then  a  chord  of  three 
notes;  then  a  full  chord  of  four;  at  last,  with  both 
hands — oh,  joy! — a  combination  of  five  notes,  the  chord 
of  the  ninth."  It  should  be  explained  that  this  chord 
is  one  of  the  most  important  characteristics  of  modern 
music,  and  one  of  the  most  valuable  assets  of  composers 
of  to-day.  "When  I  found  that,"  said  Grieg,  "my  hap- 
piness knew  no  bounds.  ...  I  was  about  five  years  old." 

It  was  soon  time  for  him  to  go  to  school,  which  he  did 
not  like,  for  he  preferred  to  lie  on  his  back  and  dream 
as  he  watched  the  summer  clouds  float  lazily  in  the  sky. 
A  brilliant  idea  came  to  him  in  the  arithmetic  class. 
"In  order  to  finish  as  soon  as  possible  I  left  out  all  the 
ciphers,  since,  as  I  understood  it,  they  signified  nothing. 
But  I  profited  through  experience.  Since  then  I  have 
learned  to  reckon  with  ciphers!" 

One  day  he  brought  to  school,  instead  of  an  essay,  a 
composition,  his  first  attempt — variations  on  a  familiar 
melody.  A  buzz  went  through  the  class-room.  The 
teacher  made  inquiries.  "Grieg  has  a  composition." 
The  professor  went  to  a  door  and  called  to  a  colleague: 
"Come  here.  Here's  something  to  look  at.  This  little 

248 


GRIEG.  1843-1907 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

chap  is  a  composer!"  But  the  happiness  of  the  child 
was  short-lived.  When  the  second  professor  had  de- 
parted the  first  changed  his  tactics  "and  took  me,"  said 
Grieg,  "by  the  hair,  until  everything  was  black  be- 
fore my  eyes,  saying,  harshly,  'Another  time  bring  your 
German  dictionary  with  you  as  you  ought  to  do  and 
leave  this  foolish  stuff  at  home."  Grieg  found  solace  \ 
in  the  person  of  a  young  lieutenant  who  lived  opposite  s 
the  school  and  who  was  devoted  to  music.  For  him 
Grieg  had  to  copy  all  his  compositions.  "Fortunately, 
I  afterward  succeeded  in  getting  back  all  I  had  given 
him  and  throwing  them  into  the  waste-paper  basket, 
where  they  most  certainly  belonged.  I  have  often 
thought  with  gratitude  of  my  friend  the  lieutenant,  who 
has  since  become  a  general,  and  of  the  compliments 
which  he  paid  to  my  first  attempt  at  art." 

The  day  came  when  Ole  Bull,  the  celebrated  Nor- 
wegian violinist,  rode  clattering  into  the  yard  and, 
hearing  Grieg's  music  through  the  open  window,  in- 
sisted that  he  become  a  musician  and  that  his  parents 
send  him  at  once  to  Leipsic  to  study.  "I  felt,"  said 
Grieg,  "like  a  packet  stuffed  full  of  dreams." 

At  Leipsic  Grieg  was  mortally  homesick.  He  was  then 
a  lump  of  a  lad  of  fifteen,  probably  like  most  Norwegian 
boys,  of  whom  he  himself  said:  "We  Norwegians  de- 
velop slowly.  Before  the  age  of  eighteen,  one  seldom 
knows  what  is  in  him."  The  husband  of  his  landlady 
comforted  him.  "Now  see  here,  my  dear  Mr.  Grieg, 
we  have  here  the  same  sun,  the  same  moon,  and  the 
same  God  that  you  have  at  home."  But  it  was  a  long 
time  before  these  things,  and  the  lessons  at  the  Con- 
servatory, could  reconcile  Grieg  to  the  loss  of  Norway. 

Grieg  in  his  innocence  had  expected  that  by  some 
miracle  he  could  become,  in,  say,  three  years,  a  "wizard 
master"  of  music,  but  surprise  and  disappointment  were 
in  store  for  him.  The  truth  gradually  dawned  on  him 

20  249 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

that  progress  meant  long  and  patient  drudgery.  This 
would  have  been  endurable  if  he  had  had  more  sym- 
pathetic and  intelligent  teachers,  but  German  provincial- 
ism ruled  so  strongly  at  the  Leipsic  Conservatory  that 
it  was  impossible  for  Grieg's  masters  to  realize  what 
he  was  trying  to  do,  or  give  him  anything  but  the  most 
academic  counsel.  When  he  tried  to  write  the  original 
harmonies  that  filled  his  ears  he  was  reproved.  The 
teachers  did  not  realize  that  Grieg  must  discover  new 
laws  of  composition  before  he  could  put  himself  into 
his  music.  He  worked  hard,  scarcely  leaving  time  to 
eat  or  sleep.  The  result  was  that  in  two  years  he  suf- 
fered a  collapse  and  a  severe  lung  trouble,  which  left 
him  with  only  one  lung  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  With 
the  loss  of  physical  strength,  however,  there  seemed 
to  come  an  increase  of  nervous  energy.  He  recovered 
sufficiently  to  resume  his  labors  and  graduate  with 
honors  from  the  Leipsic  Conservatory  in  1822.  After  a 
happy  summer  in  his  Norwegian  home,  he  went  to 
Copenhagen,  and  there  met  the  friend  whom  he  needed 
just  then  more  than  any  one  else  in  the  world.  This 
was  the  gifted  young  Norwegian  composer,  Richard 
Nordraak,  who,  if  he  had  not  died  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
four,  might  have  been  as  great  as  Grieg  in  his  art. 
At  last  Grieg  had  met  a  companion  who  understood  his 
dreams  and  was  with  him  heart  and  soul  in  his  desire 
to  found  a  school  of  genuine  Norwegian  music. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Grieg  became  intimate 
with  Ole  Bull.  The  two  made  trips  far  into  the  moun- 
tains, listening  to  the  songs  and  dances  of  the  peasants 
which  Grieg  would  then  incorporate  in  his  music.  No 
one  realized  better  than  he  that  music  draws  its  exist- 
ence not  from  professors  and  conservatories,  but  from 
the  common  people  and  the  common  experiences  which 
make  all  humanity  akin.  Thus  it  is  with  the  "Bridal 
Procession,"  taken  from  a  set  of  "Two  Lyrical  Pieces" 

250 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

for  piano,  music  in  which  one  hears  the  sawing  of  fiddles, 
the  approach  of  the  festive  company  along  the  road, 
and  scraps  of  peasant  songs  which  are  gradually  lost  in 
the  distance. 

"Bridal  Procession,"  Op.  19,  No.  2 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5892 

The  lamented  death  of  Nordraak,  in  whose  honor 
Grieg  wrote  one  of  his  most  impressive  pieces  of  music, 
cut  short  the  promised  crusade  for  the  musical  expression 
of  Norway.  But  in  1867,  the  same  year  in  which  he 
married,  Grieg  founded  a  musical  union  in  Christiania 
which  he  conducted  until  1880.  He  toured  Europe  as  a 
pianist  conductor,  tours  in  which  he  was  accompanied 
by  his  wife,  an  admirable  singer  of  her  husband's  songs. 

The  year  1874  was  a  banner  one.  Grieg  was  given 
a  small  pension  by  the  Norwegian  government,  which 
enabled  him  to  give  up  teaching  and  devote  his  time  to 
composition.  In  the  same  year  he  received  a  letter 
from  Henrik  Ibsen,  the  great  Norwegian  author,  asking 
him  to  write  music  for  the  drama  "Peer  Gynt."  Grieg, 
supremely  honored  by  this  invitation,  had  not  only  a 
superb  drama  to  inspire  him,  but  a  subject  ideally  in 
accordance  with  his  genius.  It  was  for  him  to  estab- 
lish the  appropriate  background  for  Ibsen's  profound 
interpretation  of  an  old  Norwegian  legend. 

Composed  for  the  theater,  this  music  was  later  made 
into  two  orchestral  suites.  Early  in  the  drama  Peer 
visits  the  trolls,  who  live  underground.  The  troll 
king  wishes  Peer  to  marry  his  daughter.  When  Peer 
refuses  the  great  cave  is  in  a  tumult.  The  trolls  gather 
and  leap  on  his  back  until  it  seems  that  Peer  can  no 
longer  throw  them  off.  It  is  only  the  prayers  of  Peer's 
mother  and  Solveg,  whose  constant  love  at  last  brings 
redemption,  which  save  him.  The  orchestra  accom- 

251 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

panics  the  scene  of  the  trolls  with  uncanny  music  which 
constantly  grows  in  excitement.  A  shriek  of  the  instru- 
ments brings  the  piece  to  an  end. 

"  In  the  Hall  of  the  Mountain  King,"  from  "  Peer  Gynt  "  Suite 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6110 

The  scene  of  Ase's  death  is  one  of  greatest  pathos, 
and  Grieg  equals  its  poignancy  in  writing  for  it  very 
simple  music.  This  music  seems  to  suggest  not  only 
sorrow,  but  the  gathering  of  the  winter  night.  Peer  is 
jesting  to  hide  his  despair  as  his  mother  dies.  He  kisses 
the  dead  face  passionately  and  sets  out  again  to  wander 
for  many  years,  until  the  faithful  love  of  Solveg  shall 
restore  him  his  soul. 

"  Ase's  Death,"  from  "  Peer  Gynt  "  Suite 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6109 

"Morning,"  or  "Morning  Mood,"  was  played  before 
the  fourth  act,  which  opens  on  the  coast  of  Algeria,  when 
"Peer  Gynt"  was  produced  with  Grieg's  music  at  the 
Christ  iania  Theater,  February  24,  1876.  This  piece  was 
originally  composed  for  an  earlier  scene.  Says  Dorothea 
Casselmann-Schumacher,  "There  is  a  faint  sound  in  the 
air  as  of  distant  bells,  mingled  with  an  echo  of  a  mountain 
yodel;  it  is  Sunday  morning  on  the  sunlit  fjord." 

"  Morning,"  from  "  Peer  Gynt  "  Suite 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6109 

Wandering  in  a  desert,  Peer  is  worshiped  as  a  prophet 
by  a  wild  tribe.  He  decides  not  to  dispel  their  illu- 
sion, since  he  obtains  from  them  much  praise,  comfort, 
and  the  love  of  the  slave  girl  Anitra.  She  dances  and 
sings  before  him,  after  which  he  woos  her  passionately, 

252 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

only  to  be  deceived  and  told  to  remember  his  graying 
hairs.  The  dance  is  an  original  and  charming  compo- 
sition in  the  Oriental  manner. 

"  Anitra's  Dance,"  from  "  Peer  Gynt  "  Suite 

Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6110 

In  the  last  act  of  "Peer  Gynt"  our  hero,  wearied,  dis- 
illusioned, repentant,  comes  back  to  his  mountain  home, 
where  he  had  left  Solveg,  his  true  love,  years  before. 
Only  she  has  remained  faithful.  A  tableau  shows  her  in 
her  hut  on  the  mountain-side,  where  she  had  told  Peer 
years  before  that  she  would  await  him.  There  Solveg 
sings  her  song,  simple  and  true  and  sad,  like  the  North, 
a  song  of  love  and  faithfulness  unto  death. 

"  Solveg's  Song,"  from  "  Peer  Gynt  "  music 

Sung  by  Lucy  Gates 
Columbia  Record  A  5840 

Grieg  was  one  who  knew  and  loved  Nature  in  all 
her  moods.  The  beautiful  composition,  "Letzter  Friih- 
ling,"  also  called  "Der  Friihling"  ("The  Spring"),  is 
the  second  of  "Two  Elegiac  Melodies"  for  stringed  or- 
chestra. None  of  Grieg's  compositions  afford  better 
example  of  the  sincere,  deeply  moving  quality  of  his 
inspirations  than  this  modest  but  exquisite  piece  of 
music. 

"  Spring  " 

Played  by  the  Chicago  Symphony  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  5844 

Although  Grieg  sometimes  filled  a  large  canvas,  he 
preferred  small  forms,  producing  a  long  series  of  songs  of 
exceptional  beauty  and  many  piquant  and  poetic  pieces 
for  piano.  The  originality  of  his  northern  harmonies, 
and  the  novel  rhythms  he  frequently  employs  are 
matched  by  the  poetic  feeling  and  the  fineness  of  artistic 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

instinct  with  which  he  develops  his  musical  ideas,  as, 
for  example,  in  the  following  well-known  composition. 

"  To  the  Springtime  " 
Played  by  Percy  Grainger 
Columbia  Record  A  6128 

The  last  years  of  Grieg's  life  were  passed  at  "Trold- 
haugen"  ("Trolls'  Land"),  a  villa  which  he  built  for 
himself  on  a  promontory  which  extended  far  into  the 
sea.  The  road  from  Bergen  came  to  an  end  in  front 
of  the  grounds.  At  the  entrance  was  a  sign,  "Mr. 
Grieg  does  not  wish  to  receive  callers  earlier  than  four 
in  the  afternoon."  Previous  to  that  hour  he  composed. 
His  studio  stood  at  the  water's  edge  and  bore  a  second 
notice,  "If  any  one  chooses  to  enter  this  house  to 
steal,  please  leave  the  scores,  as  they  are  only  for  my 
use."  He  had  in  his  hut  a  remarkable  library  of  musi- 
cal scores.  After  working-hours  he  was  cordiality  it- 
self, a  brilliant  talker,  fond  of  company,  the  kindliest 
of  hosts,  though  somewhat  tactless  and  inclined  on 
occasion  to  be  headstrong.  His  forehead  and  eyes  had 
the  poetry  felt  in  his  music.  "In  his  eyes,"  said  a 
visitor,  "one  catches  a  glimpse  of  Norway."  Grieg  oc- 
casionally took  a  short  journey,  but  was  always  happy 
to  get  home.  He  was  afraid  of  the  sea,  and  for  that 
reason  never  came  to  America.  He  died  in  1907.  The 
urn  containing  his  ashes  was  placed  in  a  grotto  at  the 
foot  of  a  steep  cliff  visible  from  "Troldhaugen"  and  ac- 
cessible only  from  the  sea.  The  grotto  was  then  sealed. 
An  epitaph  on  a  marble  slab  marks  what  was  once  the 
entrance.  There  the  remains  of  Norway's  greatest 
composer  keep  watch  over  the  land  that  he  loved. 

Norway,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Finland  in 
recent  years,  has  been  the  most  individual  of  Northern 
countries  in  her  music.  A  countryman  of  Grieg  who 

254 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

gave  early  promise  of  surpassing  him  in  the  significance 
of  his  message  was  Christian  Sinding,  born  at  Kongs- 
berg  in  1856.  In  a  somber  and  powerful  symphony  and 
a  crashing  Rondo  Perpetuo  for  orchestra*  Sinding  showed 
the  Norse  spirit  of  his  ancestors,  but  his  individuality 
was  submerged  in  his  admiration  of  Richard  Wagner, 
so  that  he  is  known  to-day  principally  by  some  inter- 
esting songs  and  piano  compositions.  A  gentler  talent 
was  that  of  Johan  Svendsen  (1840-1911),  the  son  of  a 
bandmaster  of  Christiania,  a  conductor  himself  at  the 
age  of  fifteen  and  a  violinist  of  such  talent  that,  having 
accepted  a  position  in  the  orchestra  of  the  Odeon 
Theatre  at  Paris,  his  solo-playing  on  a  certain  evening 
drew  the  attention  of  the  audience  from  the  acting  of 
Mme.  Sarah  Bernhardt.  An  accident  to  Svendsen's 
hand  interfered  with  his  career  as  a  virtuoso,  but  turned 
his  attention  the  more  to  composition.  Svendsen's 
"Romance,"  a  beautiful  and  imaginative  composition 
for  the  violin,  has  in  it  the  true  ring  of  the  North — 
the  dark  color,  the  expressive  melody,  and  the  legend- 
ary sadness  often  and  justly  associated  with  Scan- 
dinavian music. 

"  Romance  "  (Svendsen)  for  violin 

Played  by  Kathleen  Parlow 

Columbia  Record  A  5819 

Johan  Halvorsen,  born  in  1864  at  Drammen,  Nor- 
way, was  also  a  violinist  of  unusual  gifts  who  toured 
Scandinavia  and  certain  cities  of  Europe,  and  became, 
in  1899,  conductor  of  the  National  Theater  at  Chris- 
tiania. He  was  not  only  a  virtuoso,  but  knew  the  or- 
chestra. Witness  his  march  in  the  Eastern  manner, 
known  as  the  "Triumphal  Entry  of  the  Boyars."  The 
boyars  were  hereditary  owners  of  the  soil  in  feudal 
times  in  Russia.  They  grouped  themselves,  with  their 
followers,  about  a  chosen  prince,  and  held  a  rank  cor- 

255 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

responding  roughly  to  that  of  the  Highland  chieftains. 
Halvorsen's  march  opens  with  a  curious,  barbaric  motive 
played  by  the  clarinets  of  the  orchestra  over  a  drone- 
bass  of  a  primitive  character.  A  songful  contrasting 
section  throws  into  bolder  relief  the  pomp  and  color 
which  are  picturesque  elements  of  the  composition. 

"  Triumphal  Entry  of  the  Boyars  "  (Halvorsen) 

Played  by  the  Cincinnati  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5943 

The  folk-songs  of  Sweden,  of  which  there  is  mention 
in  a  later  chapter,  offer  a  literature  more  varied  and 
eloquent,  perhaps,  than  the  output  of  her  better  known 
composers.  A  charming  and  poetic  talent  which  is  near 
the  spirit  of  the  people  is  that  of  Tor  Aulin  (1866-1914). 
His  "Humoreske"  is  a  simple  and  pleasing  composition. 

"  Humoreske  "  (Tor  Aulin) 

For  flute,  oboe,  and  clarinet 

Columbia  Record  A  1984 

Since  about  1835  Finland  has  been  making  rapid 
strides  in  the  development  of  a  typical  national  art. 
In  literature  and  painting,  as  well  as  in  music,  a  num- 
ber of  important  and  significant  figures  have  risen. 
Finland  is  a  country  of  silver  lakes  and  wild  moorland. 
The  beauty  and  melancholy  of  Northern  nature  and 
the  stern  lot  of  the  Finnish  people  have  contributed  to 
the  depth  and  sincerity  of  their  art.  Sibelius'  (1865 — ) 
"Finlandia"  was  written  in  a  spirit  of  patriotic  protest 
when  Finland  was  ruled  by  the  old  Russian  govern- 
ment. That  government  was  obliged  to  forbid  the 
public  performance  of  the  work  because  of  its  exciting 
effect  on  the  populace.  Mark  the  opening — the  chords 
that  growl  revolt,  the  suggestion  of  a  people  in  prayer, 
the  rolling  of  drums,  the  growing  excitement  of  the 
music,  the  wildly  defiant  conclusion. 

256 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

"  Finlandia  "  (Sibelius) 

Played  by  Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia   Record  A  6097 

The  "Praeludium"  of  Jarnefelt,  a  composer  (1869 — ) 
whose  great  gifts  have  been  overshadowed  by  those  of 
Sibelius,  is  a  delightful  piece  in  the  old  style,  built  over 
a  quaint,  persistent  motive  in  the  bass. 

"  Praeludium  "  (Jarnefelt) 

Played  by  the  Chicago  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6014 

Because  of  the  novelty  and  eloquence  of  their  folk- 
music,  and  the  originality  and  seriousness  of  the  younger 
Northern  composers,  much  is  expected  of  them  in  the 
immediate  future. 


ANTON   RUBINSTEIN 

KJBINSTEIN,  a  colossal  nature,  a  pianist  of  fab- 
ulous powers,  was  one  of  the  great  melodists. 
He  could  think  melody  almost  faster  than  he 
could  write  it.  A  hundred  ideas  descended  on  him 
when  he  set  pen  to  music  paper.  Some  of  these  di- 
vine guests  came  with  due  state  and  ceremony.  The 
musical  thought  would  arrive  in  its  complete  and  per- 
fect form,  requiring  only  to  be  transcribed  precisely 
as  it  occurred  to  the  musician.  But  when  Rubinstein 
undertook  a  great  symphony,  an  opera  on  a  big  scale, 
a  sonata  on  the  classic  model,  it  was  a  different  matter. 
He  was  a  man  of  impetuous  and  emotional  rather  than 
reflective  temperament.  It  was  not  his  genius  to  build 
slowly  and  with  infinite  care,  to  sift  out  great  ideas 
from  small,  and  rear,  block  by  block,  column  on  column, 
his  cathedral  of  tone.  Whatever  was  in  him  at  the 
moment  went  on  paper.  Hence  it  is  that  Rubinstein 
is  survived  to-day  principally  by  his  music  in  the  smaller 
forms,  by  those  simple,  inspired  melodies  which  he  ap- 
pears to  have  jotted  down,  again  and  again,  as  easily 
and  spontaneously  as  he  would  have  written  a  letter 
to  a  friend. 

An  example  is  the  "Melody  in  F,"  a  very  simple  piece 
originally  composed  for  the  piano.  It  retains  to-day 
the  freshness  and  charm  that  it  had  when  first  it  fell 
on  the  ears  of  the  public. 

"  Melody  in  F  " 

Played  by  Pablo  Casals,  violoncello  Columbia  Record      49804 

Played  by  Mery  Zentay,  violin  Columbia  Record  A  2503 

258 


RUBINSTEIN,  1830-1894 


THE    LURE   OF   MUSIC 

The  days  of  Rubinstein's  youth  were  hard  and  it  was 
bitter  experience  which  taught  him  to  hug  music  to 
his  heart.  A  Jew,  born  at  Wechwotinez,  November  28, 
1829,  he  was  early  subjected  to  the  persecutions  which 
raged  with  a  special  violence  in  Russia  during  the  reign 
of  Nicholas  I.  Finally,  the  entire  family  were  bap- 
tized as  Christians  and,  leaving  behind  them  the  scene 
of  their  tribulations,  fled  over  the  steppes  in  a  covered 
wagon  to  Moscow. 

Rubinstein's  mother  had  noticed  how  attentively  the 
child  of  five  listened  to  her  piano-playing.  She  decided 
to  teach  him,  but  found  that  he  soon  outstripped  her 
own  knowledge  of  the  instrument. 

In  Moscow,  Rubinstein  became  a  pupil  of  Villoing, 
who,  recognizing  the  boy's  talent,  agreed  to  give  him 
lessons  without  payment  until  the  time  when  he  would 
be  able  to  make  a  return  for  his  education.  These 
lessons  were  not  always  pleasant  experiences.  Villoing 
was  a  severe  teacher.  Blows  as  well  as  advice  were 
part  of  his  instruction,  but  Rubinstein  had  the  vitality, 
the  ambition,  the  indomitable  will  for  which  the  great 
men  of  his  race  are  famous.  He  throve  under  this 
harsh  treatment,  and  at  the  age  of  ten  astonished  the 
public  of  Moscow  by  his  performance  at  a  charity  con- 
cert in  Petrovsky  Park. 

Villoing  said  that  it  was  time  to  undertake  a  concert 
tour,  to  make  some  money,  and  become  known  in  the 
world.  In  Paris,  Anton  played  for  Liszt,  Chopin,  and 
other  of  the  famous  musicians  of  the  day.  He  was  wel- 
comed everywhere  and  patronized  by  aristocrats.  Pres- 
ents were  showered  upon  him,  which  he  promptly  pawned. 
His  family  was  in  need  and  he  had  no  illusions  about 
the  friendship  of  the  great.  They  were  to  be  made  use 
of.  They  were  to  become  stepping-stones  of  a  career. 
While  a  guest  at  the  castle  of  the  Russian  Grand 
Duchess  Helen,  on  Kamennoi  Island  in  the  Neva  River, 

259 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Rubinstein  completed  one  of  his  most  admired  composi- 
tions. He  wrote  a  series  of  twenty-four  "musical  por- 
traits," each  suggested  by  the  personality  of  a  guest 
at  the  castle,  and  later  published  under  the  collective 
title  of  "Kamennoi  Ostrow"  ("Kamennoi  Island"). 
The  twenty-second  of  these  "portraits"  has  been  named 
variously  by  different  publishers,  as  "Reve  Angelique" 
("Angelic  Vision"),  and  other  different  titles,  but  it  is 
best  known  to  the  public  by  the  title  of  the  set  of  pieces 
from  which  it  is  drawn.  Some  biographers  of  Rubin- 
stein find  in  it  a  reminiscence  of  the  romantic  attach- 
ment which  existed  between  the  young  musician  and 
the  woman  who  loved  him,  though  circumstances  of 
birth  kept  them  apart.  They  were  wont  to  prome- 
nade of  an  evening  on  the  shores  of  the  river,  while  a 
neighboring  convent  bell  was  ringing  and  sunset  flooded 
the  world.  Youth  talked  as  youth  will  of  its  ambitions, 
dreams,  ideals.  The  sun  still  sets  on  the  waters  that 
surround  Kamennoi  Island,  but  the  guests  have  gone. 
In  the  music  of  Rubinstein  is  the  picture  of  a  magic 
hour,  and,  perhaps,  the  face  of  a  woman  as  noble  by 
nature  as  she  was  by  birth. 

"  Kamennoi  Ostrow  "   ("  Kamennoi  Island  ") 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5665 

Rubinstein  toured  America  for  the  first  time  in  1872 
with  the  violinist  Wieniawski,  and  his  success  was  inde- 
scribable. His  leonine  power,  his  prophetic  fire,  his 
evocation  of  moods  of  the  most  poetic  beauty,  have 
been  often  enough  described.  There  is  a  profile  of 
Rubinstein,  leaning  forward  over  the  keyboard,  wilted 
collar,  drops  of  sweat  falling  through  the  air,  and  face 
illumined  by  the  vision  of  the  Lord.  He  often  played 
with  a  careless  disregard  of  detail.  No  one  cared.  He 
would  have  struck  fire  from  his  hearers  if  he  had  been 

260 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

playing  a  bass  drum.  A  favorite  concert  war-horse  is  the 
"Valse  Caprice,"  a  piano  composition  in  the  good  old 
style,  full  of  excitement  and  melody.  Josef  Hofmann, 
himself  a  great  pupil  of  Rubinstein,  acquired  at  first 
hand  the  conception  of  the  master. 

"  Valse  Caprice  " 
Played  by  Josef  Hofmann 
Columbia  Record  A  5419 

Dance  rhythms  are  especially  strong  in  Rubinstein's 
music,  as  may  be  observed  by  this  waltz  and  by  an 
excerpt  from  his  "Bal  Costume."  "Toreador  and  An- 
dalusian"  is  supposed  to  be  the  dance  of  an  Andalusian 
girl  and  her  gallant  bull-fighter.  The  click  of  castanets, 
the  bold,  challenging  gestures  of  the  man,  the  coquettish 
movements  of  the  woman,  the  eyes  that  flash  behind  the 
fan,  the  applause  of  the  watching  throng  —  these  are 
the  inspiration  of  Rubinstein's  music. 

"  Toreador  and  Andalusian  " 
Played  by  Prince's  Band 
Columbia  Record  A  5433 

Had  Rubinstein  saved  what  he  earned  he  would  have 
been  a  millionaire,  but  his  charity,  his  good  deeds,  were 
endless.  He  was  very  sensitive  to  feminine  charm  and 
chivalrous  toward  women,  and  the  amounts  which  he 
donated  in  the  form  of  marriage  dowries  to  penniless 
maidens  became  a  standing  joke  with  his  friends.  He 
was  impatient  of  ceremony  and  fuss  in  the  routine  affairs 
of  life.  When  he  needed  a  new  suit  he  sent  for  a  tailor 
and  handed  him  an  old  garment,  telling  him  to  make 
another  precisely  similar.  He  had  a  laughable  habit 
of  fixing  dates  for  changes  of  clothing.  The  1st  of  May 
was  the  day  for  putting  on  his  summer  coat,  whether 
it  was  shining  or  snowing.  Likewise  he  wore  his  Rus- 
sian furs  up  to  a  certain  time  in  the  spring.  The  violets 

£61 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

might  bloom  and  the  birds  might  sing,  but  the  furs  were 
retained. 

He  did  not  like  doctors.  In  the  second  week  of 
November,  1894,  he  complained  of  pains  in  the  arms 
and  chest.  When  a  physician  called  on  the  19th,  and 
asked  if  he  might  examine  the  heart,  Rubinstein  hesi- 
tated, and  when  the  moment  came  moved  only  the  left 
flap  of  his  coat,  saying: 

"Very  well;   now  listen." 

"But  I  can't  hear  your  heart  through  your  shirt  and 
vest,"  protested  the  physician. 

Rubinstein  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said:  "All 
right.  We  might  as  well  play  whist." 

"What  about  your  heart?"  persisted  the  doctor. 

"You  may  hear  it  some  other  time,"  Rubinstein  re- 
plied. As  was  his  custom,  he  took  that  evening  a  glass 
of  wine  before  going  to  bed.  At  two  o'clock  of  the 
following  morning  he  was  dead. 

One  reads  of  the  enormous  fertility  of  composers  of 
previous  periods,  and  marvels  at  what  seem,  by  com- 
parison, the  small  number  of  works  produced  by  com- 
posers of  to-day.  Rubinstein  composed  eighteen  operas 
and  sacred  dramas;  six  symphonies;  three  "character 
pieces"  for  orchestra— "Faust,"  "Ivan  IV,"  "Don 
Quixote";  three  overtures;  more  than  one  hundred 
songs;  chamber  music  and  smaller  compositions  with- 
out number  for  the  piano  and  other  solo  instruments. 
These  works  were  lauded  to  the  skies  in  their  day,  and 
played  everywhere,  but  it  was  not  the  symphonies — 
not  even  the  grand  "Ocean"  symphony — nor  the  great 
"sacred  dramas,"  nor  the  pretentious  "character  pieces" 
for  orchestra  that  lived  after  him.  It  was  the  simple, 
heartfelt  melodies  that  escaped  him  when  he  was  perhaps 
least  aware  of  the  value  of  what  he  was  writing  which 
keep  green  his  memory. 


PETER  ILJITCH  TSCHAIKOWSKY 

i 

IN  Russia  it  has  been  a  custom  to  bomb  those  unhappy 
potentates  whom  the  people  do  not  love.  Peter 
Iljitch  Tschaikowsky  employed  subtler  methods. 
He  concealed  his  ammunition  in  his  music. 

Like  a  bombshell,  indeed,  was  the  explosion  of  this 
music,  thrown  over  the  fence  from  the  land  of  the  Czar 
into  the  concert-halls  and  opera-houses  of  Europe  and 
America.  Its  melancholy  beauty,  its  gorgeous  colors,  its 
volcanic  passion,  shocked  the  conservative  and  fascinated 
the  public.  No  need  to  explain  this  music.  Useless  to 
condemn  it.  It  was  too  human,  too  original,  too  utterly 
sincere  for  that.  It  winged  its  way  from  heart  to  heart. 

Tschaikowsky's  was  a  temperament  essentially  typical 
of  his  country  and  his  times.  The  unrest,  the  fatalism, 
the  vague  aspirations  toward  a  brighter  and  freer  day, 
which  possessed  Russia,  were  echoed  in  his  art.  He 
was  born  on  the  7th  of  May,  1840.  One  day,  when 
he  was  having  a  geography  lesson  with  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  he  shocked  his  governess  by  kissing  the  map  of 
Russia  and  spitting  on  the  rest  of  the  world.  Only  one 
other  country  was  excepted,  a  country  always  dear  to 
Tschaikowsky's  heart.  When  reproved  for  his  action  he 
answered:  "But  didn't  you  see?  All  the  time  I  kept 
my  hand  over  France." 

Tschaikowsky's  first  musical  impulse  was  given  him 
when  his  father  brought  home  from  Petrograd  a  mechan- 
ical player,  an  orchestrion  which  played  airs  by  Mozart 
and  by  Italian  composers — Bellini,  Donizetti,  and  Ros- 

21  263 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

sini — whom  Peter  thus  came  to  know  and  love.  The 
music  of  these  men  profoundly  influenced  his  own  style 
as  a  composer  in  later  days. 

Peter  loved  his  mother  with  passionate  intensity,  and 
when  she  died  of  cholera  in  1854  retired  into  himself, 
morose,  cynical,  and  somewhat  self-centered.  It  was 
some  time  before  he  recovered.  He  followed  the  ex- 
ample of  other  men  of  his  own  rank  in  life  by  fitting 
himself  for  an  official  sinecure  in  Petrograd,  where  the 
pay  was  good  and  the  service  light.  By  day  he  was  a 
rather  absent-minded  ano^  unsatisfactory  official,  and  by 
night  the  darling  of  Petrograd  drawing-rooms,  for  he  was 
a  good-looking  young  man  who  had  a  charming  talent 
for  the  improvisation  of  waltzes  at  the  piano.  This  was 
Tschaikowsky  in  his  twentieth  year. 

There  came  a  change.  Disgust  with  his  idle  life  grew 
on  the  future  composer.  He  decided  that  his  only  talent 
was  for  music;  that,  therefore,  it  was  his  duty  to  develop 
it  at  whatever  cost,  if  his  life  were  to  mean  anything 
and  he  escape  the  fate  of  the  fop  and  the  idler.  "Do  not 
imagine  that  I  dream  of  being  a  great  artist,"  he  wrote 
his  father;  "I  only  feel  I  must  do  the  work  for  which  I 
have  a  vocation,  whether  I  become  a  celebrated  com- 
poser or  only  a  struggling  teacher — 'tis  all  the  same.  In 
any  case,  my  conscience  will  be  clear  and  I  shall  no 
longer  have  the  right  to  grumble  at  my  lot." 

Gone  was  the  dandy  of  former  days.  Gone  also  was 
the  comfortable  salary  which  had  been  his.  Tschaikow- 
sky became  a  pupil  of  Anton  Rubinstein  at  the  Con- 
servatory. Anton's  equally  gifted  brother,  Nicholas 
Rubinstein,  not  only  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  young 
man's  talent,  but  helped  him  through  those  poverty- 
stricken  days  by  securing  him  pupils,  giving  him  shel- 
ter, and  even  clothes  on  occasion.  Tschaikowsky  writes 
home  to  his  father  that  he  is  working  hard  and  is 
happy  in  his  art — only  it  is  a  little  uncomfortable  in  the 

264 


TSCHAIKOWSKY,  1840-1893 


THE-LURE   OF   MUSIC 

evenings,  since  the  scratching  of  his  pen  disturbs  Rubin- 
stein when  he  tries  to  sleep! 

Through  Rubinstein's  interest  Tschaikowsky  became 
professor  of  harmony  at  the  newly  opened  Moscow  Con- 
servatory, and  soon  commenced  to  produce  significant 
music.  One  of  the  best-known  pieces  of  these  early  days 
is  the  "Chant  sans  Paroles"  ("Song  without  Words"), 
from  the  collection  entitled  "Souvenirs  [Memories]  de 
Hapsal."  This  piece  commemorates  one  of  the  happiest 
experiences  of  Tschaikowsky 's  youthful  years.  After  a 
hard  winter's  labor  at  the  Conservatory  he  found  him- 
self in  possession  of  the — to  him — unparalleled  sum  of 
one  hundred  rubles,  or  about  fifty  dollars.  He  must  have 
thought  he  had  Fortunatus'  purse  at  his  disposal,  for  he 
immediately  embarked  with  his  brother  Modest  on  a 
holiday  trip  to  Finland.  Arrived  in  that  country,  the 
two  idled  about  at  Viborg  and  admired  the  Imatra 
Falls  until  they  suddenly  found  that  there  was  barely 
car  fare  enough  to  get  home,  and  nothing  to  live  on  when 
they  arrived.  So  they  begged  sanctuary  of  Tschai- 
kowsky's  stepmother,  who  lived  in  the  charming  dis- 
trict of  Hapsal.  Through  the  long  summer  days  the 
brothers  wandered  about  the  forest  and  watched  the 
glowing  sunsets,  communing  happily  with  each  other 
and  with  nature.  All  too  quickly  the  summer  was  gone, 
but  Tschaikowsky  preserved  the  memory  of  those 
charmed  hours  in  the  following  melody. 

"  Chant  sans  Paroles  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  1037 

Tschaikowsky's  fame  commenced  to  spread,  but  his 
pocket-book  was  still  very  thin.  In  order  to  replenish 
it  he  decided  to  give  a  concert.  For  this  occasion  he 
composed  a  new  work,  in  which  the  whole  world  recog- 
nized the  heart-beat  of  Russia.  One  day  while  Tschai- 

265 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

kowsky  was  composing,  he  heard  a  plasterer  singing 
beneath  the  window  a  sad  and  beautiful  song  which 
the  musician  could  not  dismiss  from  his  thoughts.  This 
song,  mournful  and  tender,  an  old  song  loved  by  the 
Russian  peasants,  became  the  substance  of  the  slow 
movement,  or  "Andante  Cantabile,"  of  his  quartet. 

Andante  from  String  Quartet 

Played  by  Toscha  Seidel,  violinist  Columbia  Record  49624 

Played  by  Boston  String  Quartet  Columbia  Record  A  2517 

As  usual,  the  composer,  a  painfully  shy  and  sensitive 
man,  passed  his  hour  of  torment  before  the  performance 
of  this  work  took  place,  wondering  whether  he  had  cre- 
ated a  work  of  art  or  made  a  plain  fool  of  himself.  His 
doubts  were  relieved  in  a  manner  that  he  never  forgot. 
Count  Leo  Tolstoi,  the  author  of  Anna  Karenina,  The 
Resurrection,  and  other  famous  works,  paid  him  a  visit 
and  sat  by  him  while  his  quartet  was  being  played. 
Listening  to  the  slow  movement,  Tolstoi  was  so  pro- 
foundly moved  that  he  wept.  "I  have  heard,"  he  said, 
"the  soul  of  my  patient  and  suffering  people." 

And  now  love,  which  either  builds  or  destroys,  came 
into  Tschaikowsky's  life.  He  had  just  completed  an 
overture  called  "Destiny"  when  an  Italian  opera  com- 
pany visited  Moscow.  In  that  company  the  leading 
artist  was  Desir6e  Artot,  "a  woman  of  thirty,  not  good- 
looking,  but  with  a  passionate  and  expressive  face." 
Tschaikowsky  met  her  at  a  supper  one  evening  after  the 
opera.  She  asked  him  to  call.  He  avoided  her.  The 
company  departed  from  Moscow,  but  returned  there 
the  next  fall.  Artot  asked  him  why  she  had  not  seen 
him  and  later  the  well-meaning  Nicholas  Rubinstein  in- 
sisted that  Tschaikowsky  attend  a  party  at  her  home. 
The,  two  became  engaged.  But  Tschaikowsky  was  far 
from  happy.  He  loved  Desiree  with  all  his  heart,  but 
she  would  not  leave  the  stage,  and  he  had  no  appetite 

266 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

for  becoming  the  husband  and  cloak-carrier  of  a  popu- 
lar prima  donna.  The  days  dragged  on,  till  the  Gor- 
dian  knot  was  suddenly  clipped  by  Miss  Desiree  her- 
self, who,  without  a  word  of  explanation,  married  a 
barytone  of  the  Warsaw  Opera.  Tschaikowsky  was  pros- 
trated by  the  blow.  Worse  still,  the  company  revisited 
Moscow.  The  unfortunate  composer  sat  in  the  audito- 
rium, his  opera-glasses  glued  to  his  eyes,  but  seeing  noth- 
ing because  of  the  tears  that  streamed  down  his  face. 

Just  after  this  bitter  experience,  and  while  he  was 
still  so  much  under  the  spell  of  the  woman  that  he  could 
not  hear  her  name  without  emotion,  Tschaikowsky  was 
asked  to  write  an  overture  to  Shakespeare's  great  love 
drama,  "Romeo  and  Juliet."  Could  he  have  found  the 
inspiration  for  this  music  had  it  not  been  for  his  own 
tragedy?  The  overture  opens  with  a  choral  motive 
—the  thought  of  Friar  Laurence — and  harmonies  as 
beautiful  as  they  are  laden  with  the  fateful  atmosphere 
of  the  drama.  Music  of  strife  depicts  the  brawls  of 
the  Montagues  and  Capulets.  Then  rises  from  the 
depths  of  the  orchestra  that  melody — one  of  the  greatest 
Tschaikowsky  ever  penned — which  chants  the  love  of  the 
immortal  pair.  It  wras  to  this  same  melody  that  the 
composer,  intending  in  later  years  to  complete  an  opera 
on  the  subject,  set  the  words  of  Juliet:  "Oh  tarry, 
night  of  ecstasy;  Oh  night  of  love,  stretch  thy  dark 
veil  over  us!"  In  the  overture  it  is  heard  again  and 
again,  passing  from  instrument  to  instrument,  and  sung 
with  all  the  splendor  and  power  of  the  orchestra.  At 
the  last  it  is  echoed  tragically  by  different  instruments, 
as  chords  of  the  most  poignant  tenderness  and  beauty 
bring  the  overture  to  an  end. 

This  was  the  fruit  of  Tschaikowsky's  first  serious  love- 
affair — perhaps  his  last,  if  the  traditional  interpretation 
of  the  word  "love"  is  to  be  applied  to  the  singular  rela- 
tions with  women  of  his  later  life. 

267 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

With  the  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  overture  Tschaikowsky 
sprang  at  a  bound  into  prominence,  not  only  in  Russia 
but  in  Europe.  His  circumstances  began  to  mend,  and 
in  return  for  what  she  had  snatched  away  Fate  sent 
him  one  of  the  most  beautiful  friendships  in  the  history 
of  art.  This  was  his  singular  relationship  with  Nadeshda 
von  Meek,  to  whom  he  never  spoke  in  his  life,  although 
they  corresponded  almost  daily,  and  he  confided  in  her 
as  to  a  companion  soul. 

Madame  von  Meek,  the  widow  of  a  rich  engineer, 
loved  music,  and  had  been  profoundly  affected  by  the 
compositions  of  Tschaikowsky.  She  asked  Tschaikow- 
sky to  allow  her  to  pension  him  for  the  remainder  of  his 
days,  saying  that  it  would  make  her  infinitely  happy  to 
know  him  secure  and  able  to  compose  as  his  inspiration 
directed.  After  some  hesitation  he  accepted  this  offer. 
It  was  Madame  von  Meek  who  stipulated,  with  the 
rarest  tact  and  generosity,  that  they  should  never  meet. 
They  never  did  meet,  save  once,  by  accident,  when  the 
composer  encountered  her  in  the  woods.  This  happened 
one  day  near  Madame  von  Meck's  estate  at  Brailov. 
Tschaikowsky,  not  knowing  of  her  proximity,  suddenly 
found  himself  before  her.  They  gazed  at  each  other 
for  a  moment  without  a  word.  Then  Tschaikowsky, 
with  a  frightened  exclamation,  raised  his  hat  and  fled 
through  the  trees.  They  continued  to  correspond  until 
— bitterest  of  all  the  composer's  trials — there  arose  be- 
tween them  a  misunderstanding  which  remained  un- 
explained to  the  day  of  his  death.  Surely,  beside  the 
eternities  of  true  friendship,  the  accidents  of  this  life 
weigh  small!  Surely,  on  the  other  side  of  the  grave, 
the  needful  word  was  spoken! 

Madame  von  Meek  was  even  the  confidante  of  the  be- 
ginning and  end  of  perhaps  the  most  fantastic  and  un- 
fortunate experience  of  marriage  a  composer  ever  under- 
went. It  was  only  an  episode,  over  almost  before  it 

268 


THE   LURE    OF   MUSIC 

began,  but  it  nearly  cost  the  musician  his  life,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  reason. 

A  woman  whom  Tschaikowsky  hardly  knew  wrote 
him  a  letter  telling  him  that  she  loved  him.  Her  ex- 
pressions were  so  sincere  and  so  touching  that  the  com- 
poser answered  the  letter.  Still  more  foolishly,  he  con- 
sented to  visit  her.  She  so  aroused  his  sympathy  and 
his  chivalry  that  at  last,  though  he  did  not  love  her, 
he  asked  her  to  be  his  wife.  With  an  impulse  so  child- 
like that  it  makes  one  smile,  and  so  tragic  in  its  revela- 
tion of  helplessness  and  despair  that  it  makes  one  weep, 
he  seized  letter-paper  and  confided  the  whole  thing  to 
Madame  von  Meek!  She,  sensible  woman,  neither  crit- 
icized nor  condemned.  The  marriage,  of  course,  was  an 
utter  failure.  Tschaikowsky  was  as  one  distracted. 
Later  he  told  a  friend,  Kashkin,  that  one  night  he  stood 
up  to  his  armpits  in  a  near-by  river,  hoping  he  would 
catch  a  death-chill.  The  marriage  had  to  be  dissolved. 
Tschaikowsky  was  a  broken  man.  But  he  never  blamed 
his  wife  for  the  catastrophe,  and  always  spoke  of  her  as 
a  noble  woman. 

In  1887  Russia  was  at  war.  Tschaikowsky,  respon- 
sive to  the  temper  of  the  times,  composed  the  barbaric 
"Marche  Slave."  The  march  opens  with  the  angry 
pounding  of  a  drum — a  call,  a  menace,  a  summons  to 
battle.  Then,  over  this  single  note,  is  heard  the  wailing 
minor  chant  of  a  primitive  people.  "Ancestral  voices 
prophesying  war."  This  is  a  Serbian  folk-tune  selected 
by  Tschaikowsky  for  his  purpose. 

A  new  and  defiant  song  is  heard,  accompanied  by 
commotion  of  the  wind  instruments.  After  stormy  prep- 
aration the  chant  is  again  intoned  with  all  possible 
orchestral  sonority.  Gradually,  as  though  vanishing  in 
the  distance,  this  dies  away,  and  low,  growling  chords 
bring  the  first  part  of  the  record  to  a  close.  The  second 
half  of  the  march  (on  the  reverse  side  of  the  record) 

269 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

opens  with  a  joyous  dance  motive — music  of  exulta- 
tion, of  anticipated  triumph.  For  a  stirring  climax  the 
composer  gives  us  two  new  strains  in  combination,  the 
first  a  joyous  dance  rhythm,  through  which  is  heard 
sounding  the  Russian  national  anthem. 

"  Marche  Slave,"  Parts  I  and  II 

Played  by  Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5933 

The  old  Russian  anthem  served  Tschaikowsky  well. 
Another  great  composition  inspired  by  national  feeling 
is  the  Overture  1812.  This  was  written  for  the  con- 
secration of  the  Cathedral  of  Christ  in  Moscow,  built 
to  commemorate  the  burning  of  that  city  in  the  year 
1812.  The  overture  was  to  be  performed  in  the  great 
square  before  the  church  by  an  enormous  orchestra. 
At  the  climax  church  bells  were  to  ring,  and  the  place 
of  the  big  drums  was  to  be  taken  by  cannon.  How 
successfully  Tschaikowsky  imagined  this  scene — the  as- 
sembled multitude  in  many-colored  costumes,  the  peas- 
ants and  the  nobles,  the  priests  with  their  icons,  the 
soldiers,  the  guards  of  the  Czar,  and  the  towering  tem- 
ple of  worship  for  a  background — and  with  what  tech- 
nical mastery  he  filled  the  great  spaces  of  his  canvas  is 
shown  by  the  music. 

Overture:    "  The  Year  1812,"   Parts  I  and  II 

Played  by  the  Regimental  Band  of  H.  M.  Grenadier  Guards 

Columbia  Record  A  5874 

The^overtu-re  opens  with  the  Russian  hymn,  "God% 
preserve  Thy  people,"  sounded  with  antiphonal  majesty 
by  the  brass  instruments.  This  gives  way  to  music  of 
agitation  and  suspense,  while  the  oboe  plays  a  mourn- 
ful melody  over  an  awakening  orchestra.  Gradually  a 
tempest  of  tone  is  let  loose.  The  drums  roll.  A  chal- 
lenging fanfare  is  sounded  by  the  cornets.  When  this 

270 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

is  repeated  it  is  heard  in  combination  with  a  new  and 
singing  theme.  This  makes  the  first  half  of  the  record. 
The  second  half,  on  the  reverse  side,  begins  with  music 
woven  of  the  French  "Marseillaise"  and  a  Cossack 
folk-tune.  Fragments  of  the  "Marseillaise"  are  lost 
in  whirling  masses  of  tone.  The  Russian  airs  and  the 
"Marseillaise"  alternate.  As  bells  ring  from  church 
towers  the  French  anthem  is  flung  out  by  the  brass. 
The  orchestra  prepares  for  some  great  event,  some 
mighty  rejoicing.  Again  is  heard  the  hymn  of  the 
opening,  "God  preserve  Thy  people,"  again  the  brilliant 
fanfare  of  the  cornets,  and  finally,  with  rolling  of  drums 
and  joyful  reverberation  of  cathedral  bells,  the  national 
anthem. 

Tschaikowsky  composed  operas,  symphonies,  and 
suites  in  rapid  succession.  Among  these  were  the  operas 
"Eugen  Onegin,"  "Pique  Dame,"  "Joan  of  Arc";  the 
Fourth  and  Fifth  Symphonies;  three  string  quartets 
and  other  pieces  of  chamber  music;  many  extremely 
beautiful  songs  and  a  ballet,  "The  Sleeping  Beauty." 

He  waited  years  before  giving  the  world  one  of  his 
gayest  and  most  delightful  compositions,  the  "Casse- 
Noisette"  ("Nut-cracker")  Suite.  The  music  was  to 
accompany  a  fairy  ballet.  In  the  first  scene  happy 
children  are  gathered  about  a  Christmas  tree.  Candles 
are  lighted,  and  every  one  receives  presents.  To  little 
Marie  is  given  a  common  nut-cracker,  but  she  likes 
this  best  of  all.  The  boys  snatch  it  from  her,  and  it 
is  broken.  Marie  bursts  into  tears,  talks  to  it,  caresses 
it,  and  before  going  to  bed  herself  rocks  it  to  sleep  under 
the  Christmas  tree.  ...  It  is  midnight.  Marie  awakes, 
remembers  her  broken  nut-cracker  and  steals  down  to 
the  darkened  room.  Strange  sight!  Swarms  of  mice 
are  coming  in  from  all  sides.  Then  a  wonderful  thing 
happens.  The  Christmas  cakes,  the  toys,  and,  best  of 
all,  her  beloved  nut-cracker,  come  to  life.  There  is 

271 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

great  commotion;  war  is  declared  between  the  mice 
and  the  toys.  The  nut-cracker  takes  command  and 
fights  with  the  mouse  king.  When  the  nut-cracker  is 
almost  vanquished  Marie  bravely  throws  her  shoe  at 
the  mouse  king.  He  dies  and  the  mice  are  defeated. 
The  nut-cracker  changes  to  a  handsome  prince,  thanks 
Marie,  and  takes  her  with  him  to  his  magic  kingdom. 
The  second  scene  of  the  ballet  shows  the  jam  moun- 
tain in  the  fairy-land  of  sweets  and  toys.  Here  the 
sugar-plum  fairy  is  queen.  She  and  her  retinue  joyfully 
welcome  Marie  and  the  nut-cracker.  For  the  entertain- 
ment of  the  guests  of  the  real  world  is  held  the  dance 
of  the  sweets  and  the  toys.  The  "Danse  Chinoise" 
("Chinese  Dance")  is  the  dance  of  the  tea — one  of  the 
gayest  and  most  popular  of  these  little  pieces.  The 
"Danse  des  Mirlitons"  is  the  droll  dance  of  little  red 
musical  toys,  which  when  played  sound  like  that  friend 
of  our  childhood,  the  piece  of  paper  and  the  comb. 
Belonging  to  the  same  suite  is  the  charming  "Valse 
des  Fleurs"  ("Waltz  of  the  Flowers"). 

" Casse-Noisette"  ("Nut-cracker"  Suite): 
"  Danse  Chinoise" — "  Danse  des  Mirlitons  " 

and  "  Valse  des  Fleurs" 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5749 

This  composition  belongs  to  the  period  in  which 
Tschaikowsky  visited  America  and  conducted  per- 
formances of  his  compositions  during  April  and  May, 
1891. 

At  the  last  of  his  life  Tschaikowsky  completed  his 
most  eloquent  and  tragic  composition,  the  "Symphonic 
Pathetique "  ("  Pathetic  Symphony  ") .  What  were  the 
circumstances  which  inspired  this  work?  And  had  the 
composer  a  premonition  of  his  approaching  end?  Cer- 
tainly its  composition  was  attended  by  sorrowful  events. 

272 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Tschaikowsky's  health  was  poor;  he  was  melancholy  and 
despondent.  It  seemed  to  him  that  his  friends  were 
dropping  away.  Anton  Rubinstein  had  passed  in  the 
street  without  speaking  to  him.  Worst  of  all,  the  hard- 
est trial  of  his  life  to  bear,  Madame  von  Meek  had 
abruptly  stopped  corresponding  with  him.  We  now 
know  that  her  mind  had  been  affected  and  that  this 
had  changed  her  relations  with  every  one,  but  to  Tschai- 
kowsky  the  estrangement  was  a  crushing  blow  to  the 
fairest  ideal  of  his  life.  Many  believed,  in  view  of  his 
conduct  at  this  time,  that  he  contemplated  suicide. 
He  proceeded  to  put  his  affairs  in  order,  gave  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  a  number  of  scores  which  had  not  yet 
been  published,  and  worked  with  feverish  energy  on 
the  last  symphony.  He  admitted  that  this  work  had 
a  program,  a  story,  but  what  it  was  he  would  never 
tell.  Had  he  not  burned  his  diary  we  might  know,  but 
now  the  secret  is  sealed  forever.  The  tragedy  of  that 
music,  said  one  writer,  "stained  the  white  radiance  of 
eternity."  The  "Symphonic  Pathetique"  stands  to-day 
the  monument  of  Tschaikowsky's  art,  the  epitome  of 
his  career. 

The  following  record  is  of  the  sad  and  beautiful 
theme  of  the  first  movement,  a  theme  which  might 
easily  be  a  remembrance  of  the  composer's  happy  child- 
hood, and  of  the  mother  whom  he  loved  so  well,  whose 
death  embittered  the  life  of  her  son.  In  the  symphony 
this  music  is  preceded  by  a  fragment  from  the  Russian 
requiem. 

"  Symphonic    Pathetique  " 

(From  the  first  movement) 

Played  by  Columbia  Symphony  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5594 

Constantine  von  Sternberg,  a  personal  friend  of 
Tschaikowsky,  told  the  writer  this  story  of  his  end: 
Tschaikowsky,  at  a  banquet,  insisted,  despite  the  warn- 

273 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

ing  of  his  friends,  on  drinking  from  a  pitcher  of  unboiled 
water.  Cholera  was  rife  in  Petrograd.  Soon  after  he 
was  seized  with  pain.  A  doctor  was  summoned,  every 
restorative  applied,  and  it  seemed  that  the  composer 
was  recovering.  He  was  put  to  bed,  after  which  the 
doctor  recommended  the  usual  treatment — a  hot  bath. 
Singularly  enough,  Tschaikowsky  had  had  all  his  life 
a  superstition  that  he  would  die  in  his  bath,  and  was 
very  averse  to  following  the  physician's  advice.  He 
was,  nevertheless,  immersed,  and  all  promised  well 
when,  on  the  morning  of  October  25,  1893,  the  doctor 
turned  from  a  consultation  with  his  assistant,  and  found 
that  life  was  gone. 

This  was  the  end  of  a  noble  and  unfortunate  man,  the 
composer  who  had  done  more  than  any  other  to  make 
Russia  known  musically  to  the  outside  world.  Latin, 
Slav,  Anglo-Saxon — all  have  been  stirred  by  his  voice, 
by  the  human  documents  which  he  wrote  with  his 
heart's  blood  in  little  black  characters  on  music  paper. 


MODERN  RUSSIAN   COMPOSERS 

K7BINSTEIN  and  Tschaikowsky  were  the  pioneers 
of  one  of  the  most  remarkable  developments 
of  modern  art — the  music  of  the  young  Russian 
school.  This  music  astonished  the  world  by  its  dazzling 
color,  its  barbaric  extravagance,  its  gorgeous  pictures  of 
the  East. 

To  understand  how  such  an  art  came  into  existence 
it  is  necessary  to  go  back  for  a  moment  to  its  origins. 
The  true  music  of  Russia  came  primarily  from  the  peo- 
ple. Illiterate,  oppressed,  they  suffered  endlessly,  with- 
out help,  without  complaint,  other  than  the  songs  which 
rose  to  God.  For  centuries  their  simple  and  wonderful 
melodies  were  ignored,  as  they  themselves  were  ignored, 
by  the  aristocrats  and  by  professional  musicians  im- 
ported from  Europe.  Finally,  however,  in  the  same 
epoch  which  was  ushered  in  by  the  freeing  of  the  serfs, 
there  came  to  Russian  musicians  a  realization  of  all 
that  the  folklore  of  their  own  country  might  mean  to 
the  development  of  a  representative  national  art. 

The  first  great  Russian  composer  to  feel  the  beauty 
of  the  peasant  songs  and  respond  to  their  influence 
in  his  music  was  Michael  Ivanovich  Glinka,  born  on 
the  1st  of  June,  1804,  whose  opera,  "A  Life  for  the 
Czar"  (Petrograd,  1836),  created  a  new  precedent  in 
Russian  music  and  expressed  in  a  thrilling  manner  the 
spirit  of  the  Russian  people. 

Among  Glinka's  finest  compositions  is  his  setting  of 
one  of  the  best-beloved  melodies  of  the  Russian  people, 
"The  Kamarinskaja,"  an  air  danced  and  sung  at  peasant 

275 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

weddings,  and  popular  throughout  Russia.  The  freshness 
and  beauty  of  the  melody,  as  in  the  case  of  many  folk- 
songs, seem  strangely  mated  to  a  text  which  is  amusing 
and  often  coarse.  Inelegant,  this  text  has  the  vigor  and 
humor  of  the  common  people,  the  savor  of  the  soil. 
Such  is  the  origin  of  the  dance  which  Glinka  has  glorified 
by  his  genius. 

"  Kamarinskaja  " 
Balalaika  Solo  Columbia  Record  E  867 

Glinka  was  followed  by  Dargomizsky,  author  of  an 
opera,  "The  Stone  Guest"  (Petrograd,  1872),  and  other 
compositions  of  a  highly  original  and  realistic  character. 
After  him,  contemporaneously  with  Rubinstein  and 
Tschaikowsky,  came  those  young  men,  fanatically  con- 
scious of  the  genius  of  their  nation  and  determined  to 
express  it  in  music,  who  called  themselves,  in  gay  de- 
fiance of  conservative  opposition,  "The  Invincible 
Band."  What  wonders  they  wTought!  With  what  ar- 
dor did  they  labor  in  a  day  when  hope  was  awaking  in 
the  Russian  heart,  when  the  people  had  not  as  yet  been 
misled  by  false  prophets! 

The  "Invincibles,"  or  "The  Cabinet  "-they  were 
known  and  made  fun  of  by  several  names — were  five 
in  number,  and  all  young  men  of  the  upper  classes  of 
society.  The  leader  was  Mili  Balakireff  (1837-1910). 
He  was  the  only  one  who  had  at  the  beginning  any 
serious  and  extensive  knowledge  of  his  art.  It  devolved 
on  him  to  counsel  and  inspire  the  others. 

Alexander  Borodin  (1834-1887),  a  natural  son  of  a 
Prince  of  Imeretia,  was  a  chemist  by  profession,  and  a 
composer  in  the  intervals  of  a  laborious  and  fruitful 
career.  For  his  opera,  "Prince  Igor,"  founded  on  the 
Russian  epic  of  that  name,  which  dealt  with  heroic 
exploits  of  the  twelfth  century  in  Russia,  Borodin  delved 

276 


22 


GLIXKA.  1804^1857 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

deep  in  Asiatic  lore,  both  musical  and  legendary.  One 
of  the  results  of  this  study  was  the  "Polovskian  Dances," 
supposed  to  be  danced  by  a  primitive  people  before 
Prince  Igor,  who  is  taken  captive  by  his  enemies.  These 
dances  are  of  elemental  power  and  emotional  appeal. 
It  was  well  said  of  Borodin  that  he  had  in  his  veins  the 
blood  of  the  East  and  the  West,  that  his  art  blended  the 
refinement  and  finish  of  European  culture  with  the  sav- 
agery and  extravagance  of  the  Eastern  barbarian.  What 
is  not  less  remarkable  is  the  clearness  and  originality  of 
his  expression.  He  was  too  busy  a  man,  too  much  occu- 
pied with  many  interests,  to  produce  a  great  deal  of 
music,  but  nearly  everything  he  has  left  is  distinguished 
by  clarity  of  style  combined  with  oriental  imagination. 

One  thinks  of  Borodin,  as  his  biographers  tell  of 
him,  going  from  lecture-room  to  lecture-room  at  the 
Petrograd  Medical  Institute,  shouting  in  the  corridors 
the  strange  melodies  and  intervals  which  thronged  in 
his  head,  and  one  marvels  the  more  at  his  accomplish- 
ment. Between  recitations,  in  odd  hours  of  day  and 
night,  he  composed.  At  home  he  had  little  solitude  or 
opportunity  for  concentration,  for  his  hospitality  was 
that  of  the  true  Russian,  and  his  house  the  resort  of 
any  and  all  the  friends  and  relatives  who  cared  to 
descend  on  the  good-natured  man.  Guests,  and  cats! 
These  animals,  of  which  the  Borodins  were  inordinately 
fond,  were  not  only  underfoot  continually,  but  even  sat 
at  the  table  at  mealtime ! 

The  career  of  Modest  Moussorgsky  (1839-1881),  whose 
genius  was  so  audacious  and  original  that  of  all  "The 
Five"  he  was  the  longest  in  being  recognized  at  his  true 
value,  was  that  of  an  uncompromising  idealist.  Mous- 
sorgsky embodied  the  social  and  intellectual  movement 
then  sweeping  through  Russia,  of  which  the  refrain 
was  "Back  to  the  People."  This  was  his  creed.  These 

people  Moussorgsky  loved  and  understood — all  of  them, 

277 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

good  and  bad,  wise  and  foolish — and  he  put  them  just 
as  they  were  into  his  music.  The  stuttering  of  the  vil- 
lage fool  whom  he  beheld  one  day  making  incoherent 
love  to  the  village  belle  was  to  this  composer  more  sig- 
nificant than  any  classic  sonata  or  symphony,  and  he 
made  a  queer,  pathetic  song  out  of  it.  He  celebrated 
in  music  of  singular  weirdness  and  pathos  the  fate  of 
the  drunken  peasant,  discouraged  by  poverty  and  hard- 
ship, who,  staggering  home,  sinks  to  his  last  sleep  in 
the  whirling  snows.  An  example  of  the  distinctive 
character  of  Moussorgsky's  music  is  his  "Song  of  the 
Flea."  This  is  the  song  which  Mephistopheles  sings 
for  the  students  in  Auerbach's  wine-cellar.  Disguised 
as  a  fine  gentleman,  the  fiend  offers  to  entertain  the 
company  with  a  song.  Ostensibly  an  amusing  ditty, 
his  song  is  in  reality  a  scornful,  contemptuous  parody 
on  the  weakness  and  vanity  of  men.  The  king  at  court, 
goes  the  verse,  came  to  think  most  highly  of  the  wit 
and  talent  of  a  certain  pretentious  flea.  This  flea  worked 
himself  so  thoroughly  into  the  good  graces  of  the  mon- 
arch that  the  royal  tailor  was  ordered  to  make  it  breeches. 
All  the  court  bowed  down  to  its  superb  highness,  and 
even  when  the  courtiers  had  secretly  to  scratch — cow- 
ards and  sycophants  that  they  were — they,  nevertheless, 
cursing  under  their  breath,  paid  homage  to  the  flea. 
Into  the  music  Moussorgsky  has  put  the  impudence 
and  sarcasm  with  which  Mephistopheles,  his  tongue 
in  his  cheek,  bawls  out  his  couplets  to  the  bewildered 
townsfolk.  Satanic  laughter  is  heard  after  each  verse. 

"  Song  of  the  Flea  " 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle 

Columbia  Record  A  5734 

Another  Columbia  record  of  Moussorgsky's  music  is 
that  of  the  polonaise  from  his  opera,  "Boris  Godou- 
now>"  first  produced  in  its  entirety  at  Petrograd,  Jan- 

278 


MOUSSORGSKY,  1839-1881 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

uary  24,  1874.  The  text  of  this  opera  is  in  part  taken 
from  Pushkin's  poem  of  the  same  name,  and  is  in  part 
the  work  of  Moussorgsky.  Boris,  acting  regent  during 
the  childhood  of  the  young  Dmitri,  the  young  heir  of  Ivan 
the  Terrible,  murders  the  boy  and  usurps  the  throne. 
Some  years  later  the  monk  Gregory,  who  is  about  the 
same  age  as  the  murdered  heir  would  have  been  if  he 
had  lived,  escapes  from  his  cell,  claims  that  he  is  Dmitri, 
and  leads  a  revolt  against  Boris.  The  revolt  gains 
headway.  Boris  dies,  tortured  by  remorse,  in  terror  of 
Dmitri's  spirit,  which  haunts  him.  An  idiot,  uncon- 
sciously prophetic,  weeps  for  the  future  of  Russia.  The 
polonaise  is  taken  from  the  first  scene  of  the  third  act, 
a  scene  in  which  the  false  Dmitri,  who  loves  Marina, 
visits  a  Polish  castle  where  the  plotting  is  going  forward. 
The  guests  come  from  the  castle  in  the  moonlight  and 
dance  the  polonaise. 

Polonaise  from  "  Boris  Godounow  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5781 

In  opera,  in  a  series  of  songs  which  are  a  veritable 
comedie  humaine  of  music,  Moussorgsky  wrought  an 
artistic  revolution.  Modern  composers  bow  the  knee 
to  his  supreme  originality  of  ideas  and  technic. 
Moussorgsky  paid  heavily  for  his  achievement.  Boro- 
dine  in  his  letters  contrasts  the  change  in  the  dash- 
ing young  officer,  who  joined  "The  Invincibles"  in  1857 
when  he  was  eighteen  years  old,  and  the  man  whom 
Borodine  met  again,  after  a  lapse  of  years,  when  Mous- 
sorgsky had  given  up  his  position  in  the  army  and 
sacrificed  everything  for  his  art.  Lines  of  care  and  ill 
health  had  shown  themselves.  The  figure  was  no  longer 
trim  and  erect  as  of  yore.  The  man  had  known  sorrow 
and  thought.  There  was  in  the  face  the  loftiness  of 
purpose  which  sustained  Moussorgsky  to  the  end. 

279 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Alone  of  all  Russians  this  composer  approaches  in  his 
music  the  depth,  the  power,  the  subtlety  which  char- 
acterize the  writings  of  the  greatest  of  Russian  authors, 
Feodor  Dostoievsky. 

Nicholas  Rimsky-Korsakoff  (1844-1908)  commenced 
life  as  a  naval  officer.  In  that  capacity  he  is  believed 
to  have  touched  the  shores  of  the  United  States  in  1862. 
As  we  shall  find,  his  acquaintance  with  the  deep  meant 
much  to  him  as  a  composer.  He  loved  nature  and  the 
Russian  legends  that  nature  inspired.  He  was  con- 
tinually telling  fairy-tales  in  his  music.  Thus  his  art 
was  in  most  respects  the  precise  opposite  of  that  of 
Moussorgsky.  Moussorgsky  faced  the  realities  of  life, 
its  tumult  of  purposes  and  desires,  its  noble  dreams,  its 
petty  absurdities.  All  these  things,  which  he  contem- 
plated with  a  passionate  and  unflinching  gaze,  wrent  on 
his  canvas.  Rimsky-Korsakoff  preferred  the  realm  of 
the  legendary  and  the  poetic.  He  is  the  best  known  of 
"The  Five"  to  the  outside  world.  No  one  of  the  Rus- 
sian composers  was  such  a  master  in  handling  the  or- 
chestra. Tschaikowsky  wrote  of  the  gorgeous  "Spanish 
Caprice"  that  it  was  the  most  brilliant  feat  of  orchestra- 
tion which  had  come  to  his  attention.  This  "Caprice" 
is  a  fantasia  on  Spanish  airs  treated  with  exceptional 
spirit  by  the  composer. 

"  Capriccio  Espagnol  " 

French  Symphony  Orchestra  (Societe  des  Concerts  du  Conservatoire) 

Andre   Messager,  Conductor 

Columbia  Record  A  6122 

The  "Spanish  Caprice"  preceded  the  wonders  of  that 
remarkable  piece  of  music,  "Scheherazade,"  inspired 
by  the  Arabian  Nights,  and  called  by  the  composer 
a  "symphonic  suite."  This  suite  is  in  four  move- 
ments. The  imaginative  and  pictorial  quality  of 
Rimsky-Korsakoff s  genius  is  fully  exhibited  in  the 

280 


RIMSKY-KORSAKOFF,    1844-1908 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

opening  movement,  inspired  by  the  stories  of  Sindbad 
the  sailor.  It  is  a  picture  of  the  sea;  of  the  vessel,  with 
bellying  sail,  which  mounts  the  billows;  and  the  strange 
song  of  the  wind  in  her  rigging.  This  depiction  of  toss- 
ing waters  is  preceded  by  a  curious  passage  for  the  trom- 
bones, as  if  a  magician,  weaving  his  spells,  were  calling 
to  his  aid  the  genii  of  Arabian  legends.  One  also  hears 
a  solo  violin — the  voice  of  the  wheedling  Scheherazade 
assuring  her  lord  that  if  he  will  allow  her  to  live  another 
night,  she  will  tell  a  new  tale  more  incomparably  as- 
tounding than  any  he  has  yet  heard.  Thereafter  is 
heard  the  music  of  the  deep. 

"  Sindbad's  Voyage  " 

Played  by  Russian  Ballet  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5878 

The  sea  of  Rimsky-Korsakoff  is  that  sea  into  which 
bored  sultans  throw  their  favorites  when  they  have 
tired  of  them,  in  neat  little  bags,  well  sealed.  It  is 
the  sea  frequented  by  fantastical  monsters,  the  sea  in 
which,  according  to  the  caption  over  the  last  move- 
ment of  the  suite,  the  ship  of  Prince  Ajib,  hurtling 
against  a  statue  of  a  bronze  warrior,  loses  all  its  nails, 
which  are  magnetically  extracted  from  its  sides,  and 
sinks  in  fragments  to  the  bottom.  A  man  of  imagina- 
tion, Rimsky-Korsakoff,  in  a  note  in  his  manuscript 
score,  says  that  while  he  had  certain  tales  in  mind 
when  he  wrote  the  music  inspired  by  a  reading  of  the 
Thousand  and  One  Nights,  the  hearer  may  substitute  for 
himself  any  one  of  those  immortal  stories  which  the 
music  suggests  to  him.  That  part  of  the  last  movement 
headed  in  the  score,  "Festival  at  Bagdad,"  is  certainly 
Orientalism  run  riot — the  beating  of  drums  and  calls  of 
wind  instruments,  the  dances  that  heat  the  blood,  the 
intoxication  of  those  who  whirl  to  the  maddening 
rhythms.  At  the  end  of  this  fantasy,  condensed  in  the 

281 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

recording,   is  heard  quietly,   as  at  the  beginning,  the 
violin  motive  of  fair,  fawning  Scheherazade! 

"  Festival  at  Bagdad  " 

Played  by  Russian  Ballet  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5878 

Rimsky-Korsakoff,  in  addition  to  innumerable  com- 
positions for  the  voice  and  solo  instruments,  composed 
thirteen  operas.  And  what  were  their  subjects?  He 
told  of  Sadko,  the  minstrel,  who  dared  invade  the 
realm  of  the  sea  king,  and  by  the  magic  of  his  harp  win 
a  bride  and  escape  from  threatening  monsters  of  the 
marine  kingdom;  of  the  Snow  Maiden,  who  came  down 
to  earth  that  she  might  know  mortal  love,  and  melted 
in  the  arms  of  her  lover  at  the  kiss  of  the  fiery  sun. 
The  music  of  his  fantastical  fairy-dramas  was  as  much 
in  the  character  of  Russian  folk-melody  as  the  stories 
were  typical  of  the  imagination  of  the  people. 

The  scene  of  the  festival  of  the  spring,  in  "Snegou- 
rotchka"  ("The  Snow  Maiden,"  Petrograd,  1882),  is  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  in  all  opera.  In  the  forest  melt- 
ing snow  still  lingers.  Denizens  of  the  woodland  dis- 
port themselves  fearlessly  in  the  presence  of  young 
lovers.  Rimsky-Korsakoff  went  to  the  country  in  May 
of  1882,  and  completed  this  work  in  six  months'  time. 
The  sap  of  the  spring  was  in  his  veins.  The  laughing 
music  which  accompanies  the  dances  of  the  wood  creat- 
ures is  made  of  a  dozen  scraps  of  odd  Russian  folk- 
melody,  one  motive  treading  hot  on  the  heels  of  the 
other,  or  several  being  combined  by  the  composer. 
Straight  from  the  lap  of  Russia  comes  this  exulting 
music  of  the  spring. 

Ballet  from  "  The  Snow  Maiden  "   ("  Snegourotchka  ") 

Played  by  Russian  Ballet  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5931 

282 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

The  legend  of  Sadko,  the  minstrel  of  Novgorod, 
haunted  the  mind  of  Rimsky-Korsakoff  for  many  years. 
His  Opus  5,  "Sadko,"  a  "musical  picture"  for  orchestra, 
has  been  mentioned  as  the  first  symphonic  poem  com- 
posed by  a  Russian.  This  work  made  its  appearance  in 
1867.  Years  later,  in  1895-1896,  Rimsky  -  Korsakoff 
completed  his  opera,  "Sadko,"  which  he  called  a  "lyric 
legend  in  seven  pictures,"  and  in  which  he  incorporated 
the  principal  musical  themes  of  the  youthful  symphonic 
poem. 

The  song  of  the  Indian  merchant  is  one  of  three  sung 
in  the  fourth  tableau,  when  Sadko,  about  to  set  out  on  a 
voyage,  asks  several  of  the  merchants  to  tell  him  of 
their  native  lands.  The  merchant  of  the  North  tells 
of  gray  seas  and  the  might  of  Odin.  The  Indian 
merchant  follows  with  his  strange  song.  A  barcarolle 
is  sung  by  a  merchant  from  Venice.  In  each  of  the  three 
songs  the  composer  has  attained  a  mood  and  a  coloring 
characteristic  of  his  theme.  But  he  is  most  irresistible, 
his  expression  is  most  haunting  and  exotic,  wrhen  he 
discourses  of  the  diamonds  in  the  rocky  caves  and  the 
pearls  in  the  southern  seas  of  distant  India's  realm. 

Song  of  India,  from  "  Sadko  " 
Sung  by  Rossa  Ponselle 
Columbia  Record  49920 

Rimsky-Korsakoff,  an  honest,  fearless,  fiery-tempered 
man,  an  advocate,  even  at  personal  risk,  of  democracy, 
had  a  strong  influence  in  social  as  well  as  artistic  move- 
ments in  Russia.  He  was  not  loved  by  the  old  govern- 
ment. He  died  in  1908. 

We  have  said  little  of  Cesar  Cui  (1835-1918),  the 
least  important  member  of  the  glorious  "Five."  He  was 
more  conspicuous  for  literary  propaganda  in  then*  be- 
half than  for  the  support  given  them  by  his  music. 
He  was  at  his  best  in  small  pieces  and  in  certain  songs, 

283 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

some  of  which  had  an  agreeably  Eastern  flavor.  His 
"Orientale"  for  violin  and  piano  is  a  case  in  point. 
The  muted  violin  propounds  a  monotonous  Eastern 
rhythm.  Over  it  the  piano  has  a  tinkling,  odd-inter- 
valed  song  which  might  accompany  some  mysterious 
ceremony. 

"  Orientale  " 
Played  by  Eddy  Brown 
Columbia  Record  A  6012 

One  of  Rimsky-Korsakoff 's  pupils  is  Ippolitoff-Ivanoff. 
He  has  lived  much  in  Asiatic  Russia,  and  has  written  a 
series  of  Caucasian  sketches  which  have  deservedly 
found  favor  because  of  their  geniune  Orientalism.  One 
of  these,  "In  the  Village,"  represents  the  music  of  a 
senii-civilized  Caucasian  community — the  solitary  voice 
of  a  lamenting  viola,  followed  by  Asiatic  dance  music. 

"  In  the  Village  " 

From  "  Caucasian  Sketches  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6034 

A  piece  of  gorgeously  descriptive  music  is  the  "March 
of  the  Sirdar"  ("Cortege  du  Serdare").  It  is  an  ex- 
travagant barbaric  Eastern  march.  A  swinging  song  is 
sometimes  contrasted  and  sometimes  combined  with 
rapid  and  eccentric  musical  figures  of  another  land  and 
another  clime. 

"March  of  the  Sirdar"  ("Cortege  du  Serdare") 
Played  by  New  York  Philharmonic  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  6135 

It  is  not  uncharacteristic  of  the  times  in  Russia  that 
while  there  are  as  many  gifted  Russian  composers  to-day 
as  ever  before,  there  is  no  strong,  definite  musical 
movement  in  any  one  direction.  Outstanding  com- 
posers of  the  beginning  of  the  twentieth  century  are 

£84 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Alexander  Scriabine  (1872-1915),  an  experimenter,  a 
mystic,  a  lover  of  sensations  who  had  something  genuine 
and  original  to  say,  and  Igor  Strawinsky  (1882 — ), 
composer  of  "The  Fire  Bird"  ("Oiseau  de  Feu"), 
"Petrouchka,"  and  other  works  which  have  been  pre- 
sented by  the  Russian  Ballet.  The  evolution  of  his 
style  has  been  so  bewilderingly  rapid  as  to  puzzle  even 
his  many  admirers. 

A  third  figure  is  in  a  measure  a  foil  to  the  extreme 
modernity  of  the  two  composers  just  mentioned.  He  is 
Sergei  Rachmaninoff  (1873 — ),  in  his  early  years  a 
pupil  of  Arensky,  who  first  became  famous  outside  of 
his  own  country  through  his  Prelude  in  C  sharp  minor, 
a  youthful  composition  which  he  sold  to  a  publisher  for 
twenty  dollars. 

Prelude  in  C  Sharp  Minor 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra  Columbia  Record  A  5781 

Played  by  Josef  Hofmann  Columbia  Record  A  6125 

Some  find  in  this  music  the  despair  of  Russian  convicts 
marching  to  their  doom.  Rachmaninoff  has  unkindly 
dispelled  illusion  by  stating  definitely  that  he  had  no 
story  in  mind  when  he  composed  his  Prelude.  The 
piece  is  not  a  story  so  much  as  it  is  a  tragical  mood. 
The  composer  has  left  each  of  us  to  tell  his  own  story, 
and  it  was  Balzac  who  said  that  the  wonder  of  music 
was  its  power  to  reflect  that  which  each  of  the  listeners 
found  in  himself. 


IN  this  chapter  only  the  most  general  mention  can 
be  made  of  the  remarkable  musical  developments 
now  going  forward  in  America.  We  confine  our- 
selves to  main  currents  of  our  musical  life,  past  and 
present,  and  particularly  to  men  who  have  struck  an 
individual  and  racial  note  in  their  compositions.  The 
first  of  these  appears  to  have  been  that  brilliant  and 
poetic  personality,  the  pianist,  Louis  Moreau  Gott- 
schalk.  He  was  born  in  New  Orleans,  May  8,  1829. 
He  came,  by  way  of  several  generations  on  his  mother's 
side,  from  the  minor  French  aristocracy.  His  father 
was  English.  Gottschalk  was  a  child  prodigy  at  three, 
and  at  twelve  was  sent  to  Paris  to  study  the  piano  and 
composition  at  the  Conservatoire.  Zimmerman,  head 
of  the  piano  department,  refused  even  to  examine  him, 
saying,  "America  is  only  a  country  of  steam-engines/' 
It  is  Gottschalk's  lasting  distinction  that  he  was  the  first 
American  to  successfully  challenge  this  fast-disappearing 
provincial  European  attitude.  He  studied  with  Stamaty, 
and  two  years  later  made  a  brilliant  debut  at  the  Salle 
Pleyel.  Chopin,  who  was  present,  said,  "I  predict  that 
you  ^rill  be  the  king  of  pianists." 

Gottschalk,  returning  to  this  country  from  his  early 
concert  successes  in  Europe,  composed  his  piano  piece, 
"Bamboula,"  inspired  by  the  barbaric  dances  of  the 
negroes  of  New  Orleans.  The  tune  is  a  famous  one,  and 
has  been  used  in  orchestral  compositions  by  Coleridge- 
TJ  ylor,  Henry  F.  Gilbert,  and  probably  by  others.  The 
novelty  of  Gottschalk's  compositions  charmed  Euro- 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

peans  and  Americans  alike,  and  struck  a  new  note  in 
our  musical  art.  At  that  time  folk-melody — melody  of 
the  people,  the  folk — was  seldom  given  the  attention 
of  educated  musicians.  Gottschalk,  like  Chopin  who 
greatly  influenced  his  piano  style,  had  the  originality 
and  daring  to  incorporate  such  melody  in  his  composi- 
tions, develop  it,  and  thereby  blaze  a  path  which  later 
American  composers  were  to  follow. 

It  is  not  easy  in  these  days  to  appreciate  the  emotion 
which  Gottschalk's  music  evoked  in  his  hearers,  especial- 
ly when  played  by  himself.  There  is  in  his  most  repre- 
sentative work  a  tenderness  and  languor,  a  sentimental- 
ity typical  not  only  of  his  temperament,  but  of  his 
period  and  community.  Two  of  his  compositions  which 
held  the  public  for  generations  are  "The  Dying  Poet" 
and  "The  Last  Hope,"  pieces  of  elegance,  sadness,  and 
melodic  grace  which  exerted  an  irresistible  appeal. 

"The  Dying  Poet"   (Gottschalk) 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5932 

"  The  Last  Hope  "  (Gottschalk) 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  5881 

Gottschalk  lived  a  singularly  romantic  and  picturesque 
career.  He  toured  much  of  Europe,  the  United  States, 
the  West  Indies,  and  South  America,  where  he  passed 
some  years.  He  was  equally  at  home  whether  partaking 
of  tortillas  in  the  hut  of  a  vaquero  or  chumming  wj>h  the 
Emperor  of  Brazil.  His  memoirs  make  fascinating  read- 
ing. The  story  of  his  death  is  of  a  piece  with  the  life 
he  led.  According  to  this  story,  he  r^  se  from  a  sick 
bed  to  play  for  an  expectant  audience,  and,  while  in- 
terpreting his  own  composition,  "Morte"  ("Death"), 
fell  lifeless  from  his  chair.  This  was  in  Rio  de  Jan  iro, 
December  18,  1889. 

23  287 


A  musician  whose  talent  was  less  aristocratic  and  or- 
nate and  of  a  deeper  meaning  than  Gottschalk's  was 
Stephen  Collins  Foster,  creator  of  songs  America  will 
always  hold  dear.  These  and  certain  other  songs  by 
American  composers  are  discussed  in  the  following  chap- 
ter for  what  they  really  are,  American  folk-songs.  It 
was  not  until  after  the  Civil  War  that  there  appeared  in 
America  a  number  of  young  men  determined  to  study 
seriously  the  technic  of  composition  and  lay  a  solid 
foundation  for  achievement  in  their  art. 

Edward  MacDowell,  born  in  New  York,  December 
18,  1861,  studied  music  in  France,  where  he  was  a 
classmate  of  Debussy  at  the  Paris  Conservatoire,  and 
in  Germany,  where  he  came  strongly  under  the  influence 
of  the  romantic  school.  Celtic  by  descent,  MacDowell 
lived  in  a  world  of  dreams.  A  spirit  of  faery,  as  the 
Irish  poets  would  say,  pervades  his  music.  He  thought 
of  Arthurian  legends,  and  composed  heroic  dream- 
pictures  of  things  forgotten  by  the  world  of  men.  Re- 
turning from  Europe  to  America  in  1888,  he  soon 
fled  from  the  din  of  cities  and  found  refuge  in  his  log 
cabin  in  the  woods  of  Peterboro,  New  Hampshii^. 
There,  in  communion  with  the  forest  that  he  loved,  he 
composed  much  of  his  best  music.  He  would  not  cut 
dywn  a  tree — he  was  certain  that  the  spirit  within  '^e 
bark  suffered  from  the  ax.  His  nature  expressed  itself 
characteristically  in  short  but  exquisite  melodies,  of 
which  the  following  is  a  famous  example. 

"  To  a  Wild  Rose  " 
Played  by  Eddy  Brown,  violinist 
Columbia  Record  A  2778 

In  1896,  as  it  now  appears  unwisely,  MacDowell 
accepted  the  chair  of  music  at  Columbia  University. 
He  died  in  1908,  and  the  loss  to  American  music 
cannot  readily  be  computed.  MacDowell  was  no  man 

288 


MACDOWELL.    1861-1903 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

to  found  a  school  of  composition  or  build  foundations  for 
the  labors  of  others  to  come.  This  work  was  done  very 
notably  by  John  Knowles  Paine  (1839-1906)  and  his 
colleagues  and  disciples.  Paine,  after  studying  in 
Europe,  became  teacher  of  composition  at  Harvard 
University,  and  in  1875  occupied  the  chair  of  music  (the 
first  to  be  established  in  America)  at  that  institution. 
Among  his  pupils  were  Arthur  Foote  (1853 — )  and 
Frederick  S.  Converse  (1871 — ).  George  W.  Chad  wick, 
the  most  versatile  and  productive  of  living  American 
composers,  studied  first  at  the  New  England  Conserva- 
tory of  Music,  of  which  he  is  now  director,  and  later  in 
Germany  with  Reinecke  and  Jadahasson.  Among 
Chadwick's  pupils  were  Horatio  Parker,  whose  choral 
work,  "Hora  Novissima,"  gained  him  international  re- 
nown, and  Henry  Hadley  (1871 — •),  brilliantly  successful 
both  as  composer  and  as  conductor.  Mrs.  H.  H.  Beach 
(1867—)  is  one  of  the  few  women  composers  to  write  in 
large  as  well  as  small  forms,  as  witness  her  "Gaelic" 
symphony  and  compositions  of  chamber  music. 

Two  men,  chronologically  belonging  to  this  group,  and 
yet  not  of  it,  are  the  very  antitheses  of  each  other  in 
their  artistic  tendencies.  These  are  John  Alden  Car- 
penter and  Henry  F.  Gilbert.  Carpenter,  a  composer  of 
very  sensitive  feeling  for  harmonic  and  orchestral  color, 
a  remarkable  technician,  and  a  man  of  the  greatest 
breadth  in  his  artistic  appreciations,  was  born  in  Illinois 
in  1876.  He  studied  under  Paine  at  Harvard  and  for  a 
time  under  Edward  Elgar  in  England.  His  "Adven- 
tures in  a  Perambulator"  (1914),  a  piece  for  enormous 
orchestra,  describing  with  humor  and  astonishing  in- 
genuity the  adventures  of  a  baby  in  its  perambulator, 
made  a  sensation  in  concert  halls  of  America.  His 
concertino  for  piano  and  orchestra  (1915)  confirmed 
him  in  the  position  he  had  won  as  a  composer.  This 
was  followed  by  a  symphony  (1916),  and  in  1919  the 

289 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Chicago  Opera  Association  performed  his  ballet,  after  the 
tale  of  Wilde,  "The  Birthday  of  the  Infanta,"  strikingly 
effective  music  for  a  stage  spectacle.  In  his  song  cycle, 
"Gitanjali,"  Carpenter  shows  most  poetic  and  refined 
feeling.  Despite  his  accomplishments  in  music  he  re- 
mains active  in  business,  and  since  1909  has  been  vice- 
president  of  the  mill,  railway,  and  vessel  supply  firm  of 
George  P.  Carpenter  &  Co.,  of  Chicago.  Few  composers, 
amateur  or  professional,  in  this  country  or  abroad, 
match  him  in  his  mastery  of  his  art.  Furthermore, 
Carpenter  is  a  man  who  grows,  who  never  stands  still  in 
his  development. 

,  Henry  Franklin  Belknap  Gilbert  was  born  in  Massa- 
chusetts in  1868.  He  was  the  first  American  pupil  of 
Edward  MacDowell  when  that  composer  returned  to 
America  after  his  European  studies  in  1888.  With 
MacDowell,  Gilbert  studied  composition  and  orchestra- 
tion for  several  years,  then,  driven  by  circumstances, 
wandered  over  the  country  making  a  living  at  a  dozen 
different  trades,  consorting  with  the  people,  and  listening 
to  then*  music.  One  of  Gilbert's  early  compositions, 
quick  to  make  its  way,  was  his  "Pirate  Song,"  after  the 
verses  of  which  Stevenson  made  such  effective  use  in 
Treasure  Island.  The  song  is  rakish,  devil-may-care — 
the  picture  of  a  drunken  old  tar  reeling  up  the  street, 
singing  his  ungodly  song  of  treasure,  death,  and  rum. 

"  Pirate  Song  "  (Gilbert) 
Sung  by  David  Bispham 
Columbia  Record  A  5778 

Gilbert  waited  many  years  for  recognition  of  his  talent 
by  the  influential  musical  public.  Meanwhile  he  worked 
with  unfaltering  faith  and  zeal  to  perfect  a  musical  style 
which  should  not  be  of  European  traditions  and  formulae, 
but  a  manner  of  musical  speech  in  which  the  American 
people  could  hear  an  echo,  at  least,  of  their  own  land. 

290 


i  THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

His  ideals  were  memorably  vindicated  when  his  "  Comedy 
Overture  on  Negro  Themes"  was  performed  by  the 
Boston  Symphony  Orchestra  in  1911,  and  recognized 
by  influential  critics  as  the  work  of  a  new  man,  with 
something  of  first  importance  to  say.  Gilbert's  panto- 
mime ballet,  the  "Dance  on  Place  Congo,"  was  pro- 
duced by  the  Metropolitan  Opera  Company  in  1918,  at 
the  Metropolitan  Opera  House,  New  York.  By  turns 
brutal,  tender,  and  nobly  tragic,  the  music  ranks  as  one 
of  the  most  important  and  individual  of  his  achievements. 


Nothing  is  more  encouraging  as  a  sign  of  American 
musical  development  than  the  manner  in  which  com- 
posers have  multiplied  and  diversified  their  productions 
in  late  years.  Throughout  the  country  have  risen  men 
and  women  whose  compositions,  written  for  the  greater 
part  in  modest  forms,  have  had  an  enthusiastic  reception 
by  the  public,  and  in  sum  and  substance  exerted  a 
highly  important  influence  in  making  the  nation  musical. 

Dudley  Buck  (1839-1909),  born  at  Hartford,  Connecti- 
cut, was  one  of  the  earliest  Americans  to  write  music 
respected  by  musicians  and  at  the  same  time  appealing 
to  the  mass  of  the  people.  His  music  is  of  a  generation 
past,  but  it  will  be  long  before  it  is  willingly  relinquished 
by  organists,  singers,  music-lovers,  to  whom  its  religious 
sentiment  and  its  smooth  and  melodious  quality  are 
appealing. 

"  Seventh  Te  Deum  "  (Dudley  Buck) 

Sung  by  Columbia  Mixed  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  5538 

James  Carroll  Bartlett  was  born  in  Harmony,  Maine, 
in  1850.  In  1869  he  came  to  Boston,  where  he  studied 
with  excellent  teachers.  Later  he  became  a  pupil  in 
singing  of  ^Yilliam  Shakespeare  in  London.  He  was  very 

291 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

successful  as  teacher,  composer,  and  tenor  singer,  tour- 
ing in  1875-1876  with  Camilla  Urso's  concert  company, 
and  later  with  the  Sauret-Carreno  and  the  Barnabee 
concert  companies.  As  a  biographer  put  it  happily, 
"Mr.  Bartlett  has  sung  his  way  into  thousands  of 
American  hearts."  This  same  should  be  said  of  his 
song,  "A  Dream,"  which,  because  of  its  simplicity,  its 
sincere  and  straightforward  melodic  line,  and  its  suitable- 
ness to  the  text  of  Charles  B.  Cory,  has  established  it- 
self in  the  affections  of  innumerable  music-lovers. 

"  A  Dream  "  (James  Carroll  Bartlett) 

Sung  by  Corinne  Rider-Kelsey 

Columbia  Record  A  5710 

Homer  M.  Bartlett,  the  late  gifted  organist  and  com- 
poser who  was  in  a  former  edition  of  this  book  men- 
tioned as  the  author  of  this  song,  died  in  New  York 
in  1919.  James  Carroll  Bartlett,  composer  of  "A 
Dream,"  now  lives,  teaches,  composes,  and  enjoys  the 
high  esteem  of  musicians  and  laymen  alike,  in  Medfield 
and  Boston,  Massachusetts. 

A  talent  which  endeared  itself  to  the  public  by  its 
lyric  grace  and  beauty  was  that  of  Ethelbert  Nevin 
(1862-1901),  born  in  Edgeworth,  Pennsylvania.  He 
came  honestly  by  his  gifts — not  that  his  parents  were 
musicians  by  birth  or  training,  although  his  father  com- 
posed the  campaign  song,  "Our  Nominee,"  which 
elected  Polk  President — but  there  was  in  the  home  the 
atmosphere  of  happiness  and  beauty  likely  to  stimulate 
a  sensitive  nature  to  artistic  production  of  some  kind. 
Nevin  originally  intended  to  be  a  concert  pianist,  but  he 
developed  such  marked  ability  in  composition  that  he 
gave  the  greater  part  of  his  time  to  this  pursuit.  He 
had  an  inborn  facility  and  an  unfailing  stock  of  melodic 
ideas  of  a  very  pleasing  character.  The  piano  piece, 
"Narcissus,"  which  has  traveled  over  the  wide  world. 


ETHELBERT   NEVIN,    1862-1901 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

been  played  by  street  musicians  of  half  a  dozen  different 
nationalities,  and  been  performed  at  the  command  of 
kings,  was  conceived  and  completed  within  a  few  hours 
on  a  day's  ramble  in  the  countryside  in  1891.  The  idea 
came  to  Nevin  so  quickly  and  in  such  complete  form  that 
he  sent  the  work  to  the  publisher  without  taking  the 
precaution  to  correct  it  at  the  piano. 

"  Narcissus  "  (Nevin) 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  912 

The  famous  "Rosary"  was  composed  in  1897,  when 
Nevin  was  in  New  York.  One  evening  he  opened  a 
letter  from  an  old  friend  inclosing  Robert  Cameron 
Rogers's  poem.  The  first  line  had  the  words,  "The 
hours  I  spent  with  thee,  dear  heart."  These  words 
aroused  the  imagination  of  the  composer;  the  melodic 
thought  came  to  him.  The  next  day  he  handed  the 
manuscript,  with  a  note,  to  his  wife.  The  note  read: 
"Just  a  little  souvenir  to  let  you  know  how  I  thank 
le  bon  Dieu  for  giving  me  you.  The  entire  love  and 
devotion  of  Ethelbert  Nevin."  The  emotional  fervor 
of  this  song,  the  rich,  modern  quality  of  the  harmonies 
that  support  the  voice,  and  the  dramatic  manner  in 
which  the  text  is  set,  have  won  it  a  lasting  place  in  the 
repertory  and  in  the  affections  of  the  public. 

"  The  Rosary  "  (Nevin) 
Sung  by  Barbara  Maurel 
Columbia  Record  A  2724 

In  a  cottage  across  the  fields  from  the  house  of  his 
childhood,  called  "Queen  Anne's  Lodge,"  Nevin  wrote 
one  of  his  simplest  and  most  engaging  songs,  "Mighty 
Lak'  a  Rose."  In  it  are  the  humor  and  tenderness  of 
the  old  colored  mammy  who  rocked  him  as  a  child. 

293 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"  Mighty  Lak'  a  Rose  "  (Nevin) 
Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 
Columbia  Record  A  5671 

"Ethelbert  Nevin,"  it  was  said,  "wrote  like  a  man 
who  had  a  chrysanthemum  in  his  buttonhole  and  the 
fear  of  God  in  his  heart." 

Frederick  Field  Bullard  (1864-1904)  was  the  author 
of  one  of  the  finest  of  American  part  songs,  the  "Stein 
Song,"  which,  following  the  vogue  attending  its  initial 
appearance,  has  gradually  become  a  part  of  the  musical 
literature  of  the  American  people,  and  will  probably 
belong  eventually  to  that  class  of  compositions  known 
as  "composed"  folk-songs.  Bullard,  talented  and  self- 
critical,  did  not  overrate  his  ability.  He  studied  seri- 
ously, but  created  sparingly,  composing  only  when  he 
had  something  to  say.  When  the  time  came,  however, 
he  took  care  to  say  it  well,  as  shown  by  the  virile  swing, 
the  clean-cut  phrases,  the  manly  good-fellowship  of  his 
excellent  song. 

"  Stein  Song  "  (Bullard) 

Sung  by  Graham  Marr  and  Stellar  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  5879 

Two  Kipling  songs  by  American  composers  are 
Walter  Damrosch's  setting  of  "Danny  Deever"  and 
Oley  Speaks'  swinging  rhythms  for  the  "Road  to 
Mandalay."  Mr.  Damrosch  wisely  did  not  attempt  to 
make  music  out  of  the  dramatic  recital  of  Danny  Dee- 
ver's  end,  but  has  simply  provided  a  background  of  con- 
stantly increasing  rhythmic  excitement  which  drives 
home  the  verses  with  what  the  newspaper  editors  call 
"a  punch." 

"  Danny  Deever  "  (Damrosch) 
Sung  by  David  Bispham 
Columbia  Record  A  5778 

• 

Mr.  Speaks  has  felt  the  pulse  and  the  romance  of 
Kipling's  lines.  It  is  singular  that  comparatively  few 

294 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

composers  have  attempted  settings  of  these  verses,  and 
that  none  who  have  attempted  them  have  provided 
nearly  as  effective  an  opportunity  for  the  singer  as  he. 

"  On  the  Road  to  Mandalay  "  (Speaks) 
Sung  by  Frank  Croxton 
Columbia  Record  A  5441 

Songs  of  American  Indians  have  inevitably  influenced 
composers  in  the  West.  Whether  these  composers  have 
reproduced  the  actual  Indian  melodies,  or  merely  de- 
rived from  Indian  motives  or  legends  suggestions  for 
songs  of  their  own,  need  not  be  discussed  here.  We 
have,  in  the  songs  of  composers  like  Lieurance  and 
Cadman,  charming  melodies,  for  which  the  Indian  is  in 
greater  or  lesser  degree  responsible. 

Thurlow  Lieurance,  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  has  made 
an  extensive  study  at  first  hand  of  Indian  customs  and 
folk-lore.  Here  is  his  own  description  of  his  well- 
known  ""Waters  of  Minnetonka":  "Many  persons  know 
the  legend  of  Minnetonka — how  the  two  lovers  fled  to 
escape  torture,  and  let  themselves  sink  together  into  the 
waters  of  the  lonely  northern  lake.  The  silver  ripples, 
it  is  told,  mourn  above  them,  and  the  winds  bear  the  cry 
afar.  But  in  the  song  they  will  arise  from  the  depths 
of  the  lake  for  you;  you  will  hear  the  steady  and  regular 
beat  of  their  paddles,  and  see  the  diamond  spray  drip 
off  in  the  moonlight  as  they  pass,  once  again,  in  their 
ghost  canoe.  A  violin,  typifying  the  wind,  if  you  choose, 
echoes  the  soft  harmonies  of  the  accompaniment,  which 
rock  to  and  fro  on  harp-chords,  between  the  major  key 
and  its  relative  minor,  in  and  out  of  that  singular  domain 
musicians  know  as  the  'added  sixth'  chord  and  its 
derivatives." 

"  By  the  Waters  of  Minnetonka  "  (Lieurance) 

(Also  Cadman's  "  Land  of  the  Sky-blue  Water  ") 

Sung  by  Barbara  Maurel 

Columbia  Record  A  2625 

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THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

From  Cadman,  a  born  song-writer,  have  come  "a 
number  of  Indian  songs  of  romantic  feeling.  He  was 
born  in  Johnstown,  Pennsylvania,  in  1881.  He  gained 
his  musical  education  entirely  in  Pittsburgh  He  has 
also  been  active  as  pianist,  critic,  lecturer.  Of  late  years 
he  has  lived  in  California.  His  interest  in  Indian  folk- 
lore dates  from  about  1906,  when  he  became  acquainted 
with  the  ethnological  studies  of  Alice  Fletcher  and 
La  Flesche.  He  produced  in  1908  "Four  Indian 
Songs,"  one  of  which,  "The  Land  of  the  Sky-blue 
Water,"  was  sung  with  the  greatest  success  by  Madame 
Nordica,  and  has  been  ever  since  a  favorite  with  the 
public.  "At  Dawning"  is  similar  to  this  song  in  its 
style  and  its  melodious  idiom.  It  is  an  Indian  love-song. 

"  At  Dawning  "  (Cadman) 
Sung  by  Barbara  Maurel 
Columbia  Record  A  2724 

Cadman  has  written  three  operas  on  Indian  legends. 
One  of  these,  "  Shane wis,"  was  produced  with  marked 
success  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House,  March  23, 
1918.  He  is  a  composer  who  constantly  grows  in  his 
mastery  of  his  medium. 


There  must  be  added  to  songs  such  as  these  another 
class  of  music  which  is  gradually  gaining  recognition  as 
an  important  factor  in  our  musical  growth — the  music 
of  the  theaters,  the  bands,  the  dance-halls. 

The  marches  of  John  Philip  Sousa  (1856 — )  have 
energetic  rhythms  and  buoyancy,  felt  to-day  as  when 
these  marches  were  first  heard.  Mention  need  only  be 
made  of  several  of  the  most  representative  of  his  works 
to  remind  the  reader  of  what  they  contain,  such  as 
"The  Stars  and  Stripes  Forever"  (Columbia  Record 
A  5848);  "The  Washington  Post"  (Columbia  Record 

£06 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

A  5535);  "The  Thunderer,"  "El  Capitan"  (Columbia 
Record  A  2176). 

The  names  of  composers  of  light  opera  are  legion. 
Their  gems  are  scattered  through  many  scores,  and  a 
volume  prepared  by  long  and  discriminating  study 
would  have  to  be  written  to  do  justice  to  their  successes 
and  failures.  Two  names  are  pre-eminently  associated 
with  this  medium — those  of  Victor  Herbert  (1859 — ) 
and  Reginald  de  Koven  (1859-1920).  The  "Brown 
October  Ale,"  from  the  earliest  and  the  finest  of  his 
operettas,  "Robin  Hood"  (Columbia  Record  A  5879), 
and  "Oh,  Promise  Me"  (Columbia  Record  A  1409), 
from  the  same  work,  represent  De  Koven  at  his 
best. 

From  Herbert's  grand  opera,  "Natoma,"  based  on  the 
romance  of  an  Indian  girl,  comes  the  "Spring  Song" 
(Columbia  Record  A  1432).  One  of  his  most  famous 
and  effective  works  is  the  "American  Fantasie"  on 
national  airs,  a  lively  and  exciting  composition  of  the 
holiday  and  fireworks  brand. 

"  American  Fantasie  "  (Herbert) 
Played  by  New  York  Philharmonic  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  6040 

* 

What  has  the  negro  done  in  music  since  the  days  of 
his  emancipation  from  slavery?  While  wholly  untrained 
in  the  art,  he  was  the  creator  of  the  inspired  "spirituals," 
several  of  which  are  quoted  in  the  following  chapter, 
and  of  dance  music  of  primitive  fascination  and  appeal. 
Later  he  attended  conservatories  in  America  and 
Europe.  Being  very  assimilative,  he  quickly  learned  to 
imitate  the  music  of  the  whites — a  result  of  compara- 
tively little  benefit  to  his  original  genius.  Still  more  re- 
cently the  reflective  composers  of  the  colored  race  have 
come  to  realize  that  they  can  scarcely  expect  to  produce 
significant  art  unless  they  seek  inspiration  in  incidents  or 

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THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

impressions  which  form  part  of  their  lives  and  compose 
in  a  way  not  the  white  man's,  but  their  own.  The 
American  negro  composer,  Will  Marion  Cook  (1869 — ), 
was  educated  musically  in  this  country  and  in  Germany. 
His  song,  "Exhortation,"  is  certainly  a  nearer  approach 
to  negro  psychology  than  anything  else  we  have  heard. 
Its  composition  was  inspired  by  an  actual  occurrence. 
Some  twenty  years  ago  a  little  troupe  of  negro  singers 
and  players  were  traveling  through  the  South,  performing 
as  they  went.  One  day  they  discovered  that  their 
manager  had  been  cheating  them  and  stealing  their 
money.  The  musicians,  in  an  evil  temper,  assembled  in 
the  back  room  of  a  little  saloon.  They  played  cards, 
"crap"  games,  and  drank  much  bad  liquor.  The  man- 
ager, entering  the  room,  realized  that  he  was  in  dangef 
of  his  life.  With  a  stroke  of  inspiration  amounting  to 
genius  the  rascal  sank  to  his  knees  and  cried,  "Bredren, 
let  us  pray!"  His  first  word  in  default  of  anything 
definite  he  could  think  of  at  the  moment  was  a  low, 
miserable,  wabbling,  "Amen."  He  repeated  this  "Amen" 
two  or  three  times,  found  his  wits,  and  continued. 
Terror  added  fervor  to  his  prayer.  His  voice  shook, 
his  limbs  trembled,  and  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks. 
Forgetful  of  everything,  he  prayed  on  until  he  was  in 
such  a  mood  that  he  would  have  gone  to  his  death 
with  a  smile.  This  mood  reacted  on  his  audience. 
The  men  before  him  shifted  uneasily,  but  no  one  could 
find  his  voice  or  move  forward.  The  reprobate  held 
them  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  He  escaped.  He  left 
the  room  alive.  There  is  no  word  for  it  but  contem- 
poraneous slang.  He  "got  away  with  it!"  Mr.  Cook 
was  inspired  by  this  incident  in  composing  his  song. 
He  was  singularly  fortunate  in  catching  the  inflection 
and  the  emotional  zigzagging  of  that  opening  "Amen." 
Another  of  Mr.  Cook's  compositions  is  the  "Rain 
Sonsr,"  also  racial  in  character. 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

"  Exhortation  "  (A  Negro  Sermon) 

Sung  by  the  Right  Quintet 

Columbia  Record  A  1987 

"  Rain  Song  " 

Sung  by  Reed  Miller 

Columbia  Record  A  1558 

A  chapter  on  American  music  is  necessarily  a  chapter 
which  records  a  hundred  different  tendencies  and  efforts 
in  various  directions,  efforts  of  uneven  value,  but  all 
attesting,  in  sum,  to  the  present  rapid  artistic  growth 
of  the  nation,  and  the  mingling  and  understanding  of 
each  other  by  the  multitude  of  races  which  make  the 
warp  and  woof  of  our  national  life.  There  are  those  who 
see  in  this  amalgamation  of  peoples  and  spiritual  forces 
the  promise  of  a  musical  achievement  of  broad  and 
exceptional  significance  to  the  future  of  the  art. 

24 


FOLK-SONGS 

AJL  the  great  composers  have  gained  inspiration 
from  the  music  of  their  people,  their  "folk," 
whence  this  music  derives  its  name;  from  melodies 
created  by  musicians,  most  of  them  anonymous,  whose 
names  do  not  figure  impressively  in  histories  and  dic- 
tionaries, but  whose  simple  and  beautiful  songs  have 
outlived  the  passing  of  generations,  brought  comfort, 
healed  sorrow,  and  made  for  better  understanding  and 
brotherhood  among  men. 

The  oldest  folk-melodies  are  of  unknown  authorship. 
They  were  extemporized  from  a  full  heart,  passed  from 
mouth  to  mouth,  and  so  came  down  through  the  genera- 
tions. We  accept  these  melodies  in  the  spirit  in  which 
they  were  given,  as  we  accept  the  air,  the  sunshine,  the 
good  earth  beneath  us.  Though  we  may  not  realize 
how  great  and  beautiful  they  are,  they  become  part  of 
our  lives  and  thoughts. 

It  can  be  seen,  by  considering  the  history  of  a  folk- 
song, how  inevitably  it  became  an  expression  of  a  people 
rather  than  of  an  individual.  The  true  folk-song,  pass- 
ing from  father  to  son,  travels  far  before  it  takes  final 
shape.  It  may  disappear,  and  crop  out  unaccountably 
in  some  far-distant  locality.  Owing  to  the  fact  that  it 
is  not  printed,  to  faulty  memorizing,  to  varying  vocal 
ability  of  the  performers,  it  is  subject  to  many  alterations 
and  to  the  formative  influence  of  many  minds.  What 
is  most  beautiful  and  durable  in  the  song,  however, 
remains,  while  notes  not  essential  to  the  meaning  and 
beauty  of  the  melody  disappear.  At  last  the  song 

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THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

emerges  from  the  crucible  of  time,  a  wonderful  symbol 
of  the  spirit  of  the  people  rather  than  of  the  individual 
who  gave  it  birth. 

Folk-songs  reflect  the  environment  as  well  as  the 
heredity  of  various  peoples.  The  songs  of  the  North  are 
more  rugged  and  heroic  than  those  of  the  South.  The 
songs  of  southern  climes  have  a  grace  and  languor  not 
associated  with  the  North.  If  one  were  able  to  ascer- 
tain accurately  the  time  and  place  of  the  appearance  of 
a  given  number  of  folk-songs  he  would  have  testimony, 
invaluable  to  the  historian,  of  the  wanderings  and 
evolutions  of  the  races  that  make  mankind. 

Folk-songs  may  be  divided  roughly  into  two  classes: 
the  true  folk-song,  which  is  of  unknown  authorship,  and 
songs  of  identified  composers,  so  simple  and  true  that 
the  people  have  adopted  them  as  their  own. 


UNITED   STATES   OF  AMERICA 

All  kinds  of  fascinating  melodies  are  afloat  in  the 
atmosphere  of  America.  They  form  a  genuine  democ- 
racy, a  "melting-pot"  of  music.  Folk-melodies  from 
Europe,  strains  from  the  countries  to  the  north  and 
south  of  us,  mingle  with  the  old  slave  songs,  with  cow- 
boy ditties,  Indian  chants,  and  jingles  of  the  dance- 
hall  and  vaudeville  show.  All  of  these  must  be  taken 
into  account  by  anyone  who  studies  the  gradual  shaping 
of  our  popular  musical  idioms.  Even  from  the  latter 
sources  come  melodies,  now  and  again,  of  arresting 
individuality.  For  it  is  not  the  origin  of  a  tune  which 
determines  its  quality.  As  Debussy  once  remarked, 
there  is  only  one  music,  whether  it  be  found  in  a  waltz 
or  in  a  symphony.  Many  an  aria  sung  by  a  high-priced 
operatic  tenor  is  inferior  in  art  quality  to  a  jig  played 
for  a  barn  dance.  More  than  one  "rag- time"  compo- 

301 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

sition  of  wit,  ginger,  and  originality  has  come  from  the 
depths  of  "Tin  Pan  Alley!" 

Here  is  an  old  minstrel  tune,  of  disputed  authorship, 
"Zip  Coon,"  or  "Turkey  in  the  Straw."  It  was  heard 
as  early  as  1820.  Dixon,  Nichols,  Farrell,  circus  clowns 
and  minstrels,  have  each  been  mentioned  as  its  com- 
poser. It  is  a  wonderfully  brisk,  humorous,  frolicsome  air. 
We  have  good  fortune  in  being  able  to  quote  it  as  ar- 
ranged by  the  Texan  composer,  David  W.  Guion,*  and 
played  by  Percy  Grainger,  pianist,  in  a  remarkable  Colum- 
bia record.  First  let  us  hear  what  Mr.  Guion  himself  has 
to  say  of  the  tune  and  his  arrangement :  * ' '  Turkey  in  the 
Straw'  every  American,  of  course,  knows,  but  not  as  I 
do,  for  I  have  danced  to  it  thousands  of  times  out  here 
at  the  cowboy  dances  until  I  was  almost  ready  to  drop. 
I  do  not  know  why,  where,  when,  or  by  whom  it  was 
written,  but  the  cowboys  and  old  fiddlers  rather  look 
on  it  as  their  'national  hymn.'  In  this  concert  trans- 
cription I  have  tried  to  write  it  just  as  I  have  often 
heard  it  whistled  and  played  by  our  funny  old  fiddlers, 
the  cow-punchers  and  cowboys.  It  is  not  easy — it  was 
not  meant  to  be,  but  I  certainly  could  have  made  it 
harder  to  play!" 

"  Turkey  in  the  Straw  "  (arranged  by  D.  W.  Guion) 

Played  by  Percy  Grainger  (pianist) 

Columbia  Record  A  3381 

Wouldn't  you  know  that  the  man  who  talked  like  that 
would  be  the  man  to  make  just  such  a  funny  and  exciting 
arrangement  of  "Turkey  in  the  Straw?" 

Another  fiddler's  tune  of  unknown  origin,  but  which 
will  not  soon  disappear,  is  "The  Arkansas  Traveler." 
The  tune  and  the  tale  which  accompanies  it  are  true 
bits  of  American  folk-lore.  The  tune  began  to  be  very 
popular  among  fiddlers  about  1850.  According  to  the 
story,  a  happy-go-lucky,  improvident  Arkansas  farmer 

*  G.  Schinner,  publisher. 

302 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

sits  in  front  of  his  cabin  playing  the  first  strain  of  the 
air.  Up  rides  a  stranger  in  search  of  a  night's  lodging, 
who  endeavors  to  engage  him  in  conversation,  saying, 
"Why  don't  you  put  a  roof  on  your  house?"  The 
squatter,  who  keeps  on  fiddling,  answers,  "When  it's 
dry  I  don't  want  a  roof;  when  it's  wet  I  can't,"  and  so 
on — much  more  of  the  same  sort.  The  stranger  finally 
asks  the  fiddler  why  he  doesn't  play  the  second  half  of 
the  tune.  The  squatter  replies:  "I've  knowed  that 
tune  ten  years,  and  it  'ain't  got  no  second  part."  "Give 
me  the  fiddle,"  says  the  stranger,  who,  after  fiddling 
through  the  familiar  first  strain  of  the  tune,  turns  off 
into  the  second  part  with  the  heel-tingling  skill  of  the 
true  jig-player.  Instantly  the  whole  scene  changes. 
The  farmer  jumps  to  his  feet,  swinging  arms  and  danc- 
ing, the  children  tumble  about,  and  the  delighted  host 
sings  out:  "Walk  in,  stranger.  Tie  up  your  horse  side 
of  ol'  Bill.  Give  him  ten  ears  of  corn.  Pull  out  the 
demijohn  and  drink  it  all,"  with  many  other  expressions 
of  homely  and  enthusiastic  welcome. 

"  The  Arkansas  Traveler  " 

Played  by  Don  Richardson  (violinist)  Columbia  Record  A  2140 

Talking  (with  music)  by  Collins  and  Harlan       Columbia  Record    A  406 

And  now  let  us  listen  to  a  composition,  descended 
directly  from  the  minstrel  tunes  of  the  type  we  have 
just  considered,  only  more  lively,  more  nervous  and 
racy,  if  anything,  than  those  which  have  gone  before — 
that  famous  American  tune,  the  "Dixie"  of  Dan 
Emmett.  Dan  Emmett's  father  was  a  blacksmifh. 
Dan  helped  in  the  smithy  as  a  boy,  and  was  "Jack  of 
all  trades"  in  the  neighborhood.  He  attended  school 
for  a  little  while,  played  the  fiddle  indifferently  well, 
and  in  his  thirteenth  year  became  a  typesetter  for  a 
newspaper.  He  wrote  another  good  tune,  "Old  Dan 
Tucker"  ("Old  Dan  Tucker,"  sung  by  Harry  C. 

303 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Browne,  Columbia  Record  A  1999),  when  he  was  six- 
teen years  old.  The  next  year  he  was  a  fifer  and 
drummer  in  the  United  States  army.  After  serving 
his  time  he  traveled  with  circus  bands.  In  184>2  or  1843 
he  organized  a  quartet  which,  armed  with  a  violin, 
tambourine,  banjo,  and  "bones,"  in  costumes  consisting 
of  a  striped  calico  shirt  and  blue  calico  coats  with  im- 
mence  swallow  tails,  gave  performances  in  New  York 
and  other  cities  of  the  United  States.  Alas  that 
those  days  are  gone!  Alas  for  the  good  old  minstrel 
shows  which  many  of  us  still  remember  as  incidents  of 
childhood,  when  the  fun  was  so  simple  and  good  and 
clean,  and  the  end  man  cracked  the  old  "chestnuts"  so 
merrily ! 

Emmett  joined  Bryant's  Minstrels  in  1857.  He  corn- 
posed  "Dixie"  as  a  walk-around  for  a  performance 
which  took  place  at  472  Broadway,  New  York,  on 
Monday  evening,  September  19,  1859.  Charley  White, 
a  member  of  this  troupe,  tells  in  his  memoirs  of  the 
composition  of  the  song.  "One  Saturday  night  hi  1859, 
when  Dan  Emmett  was  a  member  of  Bryant's  Minstrels 
at  Mechanic's  Hall,  New  York,  Dan  [Bryant]  said  to 
Emmett:  'Can't  you  get  us  up  a  walk-around  dance? 
I  want  something  new  and  lively  for  next  Monday 
night!'  Emmett,  of  course,  went  to  work,  and,  as  he 
had  done  so  much  in  that  line  of  composition,  he  was 
not  long  in  finding  something  suitable.  At  last  he  hit 
upon  the  first  two  bars,  and  any  composer  can  tell  you 
how  good  a  start  that  is  in  the  manufacture  of  a  melody. 
The  next  day,  Sunday,  he  had  the  words  commencing, 
'I  wish  I  was  in  Dixie.'  This  colloquial  expression  is 
not,  as  most  people  suppose,  a  Southern  phrase,  but 
first  appeared  among  the  circus  men  in  the  North.  In 
early  fall,  when  nipping  frost  would  overtake  the  tented 
wanderers,  the  boys  would  think  of  the  genial  warmth 
of  the  section  they  were  heading  for  and  the  common 

304 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

expression  would  be,  'Well,  I  wish  I  was  in  Dixie.'  This 
gave  the  title,  or  catch-line;  the  rest  of  the  song  was 
original.  On  Monday  morning  the  song  was  rehearsed 
and  highly  recommended,  and  at  night,  as  usual,  the 
house  was  crowded  and  many  of  the  auditors  went  home 
singing  'Dixie.'" 

"Dixie" 

Sung  by  Edgar  Stoddard  and  Broadway  Quartet,  Columbia  Record  A  2277 
Played  by  Columbia  Band  Columbia  Record  A  75 

Emmet  t  received  five  hundred  dollars  for  the  copy- 
right of  "Dixie."  His  receipts  from  all  his  other  songs 
amounted  to  only  one  hundred  dollars.  He  followed  the 
stage  until  he  was  too  old  to  perform  and  changes  of 
fashion  had  made  his  entertainment  out  of  date.  In 
his  eightieth  year  Enimett  was  persuaded  to  tour  with 
the  minstrel  show  of  Al  Fields.  "When  the  orchestra 
struck  up  "Dixie"  at  the  first  performance  "he  rose  and, 
with  old-time  gestures  and  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  age, 
sang  the  song."  He  was  warmly  welcomed  in  the 
South,  but  one  such  trip  was  enough  for  him.  He 
retired  to  his  shanty  at  Mount  Vernon,  Ohio,  where  he 
worked  in  his  garden,  chopped  wood,  raised  chickens, 
and  thanked  God  for  his  humble  but  not  unhappy  lot. 
Before  his  death  he  made  the  request  that  he  be  buried 
in  the  dress  suit  he  had  worn  on  tour  with  Al  Fields' 
minstrels,  and  the  band  played  "Dixie"  as  his  body  was 
lowered  into  the  grave. 

Folk-songs  which  are  wholly  and  inseparably  a  product 
of  the  life  of  the  American  nation  are  the  supremely 
beautiful  and  pathetic  melodies  originated  by  the 
African  slaves.  These  have  been  happily  entitled  by 
H.  E.  Krehbiel  "Afro-American  Folk-Songs."  They 
were  born  of  the  sorrows  and  dreams  of  the  black  man, 
whose  susceptible  and  emotional  nature,  coupled  with 
the  influence  of  the  art  of  the  white,  gave  rise  to  a  music 

305 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

of  unique  and  incomparable  appeal.  No  white  Amer- 
ican, save  possibly  Stephen  Foster  in  his  best  songs, 
has  equaled  the  profound  feeling  and  the  mystical 
inspiration  of  these  outpourings  of  the  soul  of  a  race. 

It  was  not  until  after  the  Civil  "SYar  that  these  songs 
were  given  the  attention  they  deserved.  A  small  com- 
pany of  exceptionally  gifted  negro  musicians  was  then 
formed,  which,  under  the  name  of  the  "Jubilee  Singers," 
toured  America  and  also  Europe,  introducing  their  folk- 
songs with  sensational  success  wherever  they  appeared. 

It  was  instinctive  for  the  uneducated  negro  to  express 
feeling  in  a  way  that  would  reach  all  hearts,  while 
nevertheless  avoiding  the  commonplace  with  a  distinc- 
tion and  originality  meriting  the  admiration  of  the  most 
cultured  musician.  "Deep  River"  is  one  of  the  best 
known  of  the  negro  spirituals,  as  it  is  one  of  the  most 
touching.  Coleridge-Taylor,  the  English  negro  com- 
poser, has  harmonized  it.  The  arrangement  used  by 
Mr.  Seagle  is  that  of  Henry  T.  Burlcigh,  also  colored, 
born  in  Erie,  Pennsylvania,  who  shows  fine  musicianship 
and  taste  in  these  harmonizations. 

"  Deep  River  " 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle 

Columbia  Record  A  2165 

"Swing  Low,  Sweet  Chariot"  is  the  familiar  melody 
which  the  Bohemian  composer,  Dvorak  (see  earlier 
chapter),  used  in  the  first  movement  of  his  "New 
World"  Symphony,  which  he  composed  when  he  came 
to  America.  It  is  very  tender  and  mystical.  Observe 
how  remarkably  the  cadences  suggest  the  swinging 
descent  of  a  chariot.  The  subject,  of  course,  is  a  naive 
version  of  the  chariot  of  fire  which  came  from  heaven 
to  the  prophet  Elijah,  but  the  thought  of  the  negro 
is  here  of  mercy  and  final  consolation  when  the  chariot 
shall  descend  at  last,  "Comin'  for  to  carry  me  home." 

306 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"Swing  Low,  Sweet  Chariot"  and  "Shoot  AH  Over  Oar  God's  Heaven" 

Sung  by  Fiske  University  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  1883 

One  is  again  indebted  to  Mr.  Burleigh  for  his  arrange- 
ments of  two  of  the  finest  of  all  spirituals,  "Couldn't 
Hear  Nobody  Pray"  and  "Nobody  Knows  de  Trouble 
I've  Seen."  The  songs  have  an  indescribable  pathos. 
If  America  had  produced  no  other  music,  she  would 
have  made  a  significant  contribution  to  the  art  of  the 
world. 

"  Couldn't  Hear  Nobody  Pray  " 

Sung  by  Fiske  University  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  1932 

"  Nobody  Knows  de  Trouble  I've  Seen  " 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagte 
Columbia  Record  A  2469 

The  songs,  however,  which  most  nearly  fulfill  the 
mission  of  folk-music  in  America,  being  loved  and 
treasured  throughout  the  land,  are  those  of  Stephen 
Collins  Foster.  Foster,  of  Southern  descent,  expressed 
in  a  deeply  moving  and  poetic  manner  certain  phases 
of  American  life  which  have  gone,  never  to  return.  His 
art,  simple  and  true,  was  the  reflex  of  his  emotions  and 
impressions  of  the  world  about  him.  He  was  never  a 
learned  composer,  though  he  became  a  proficient  pianist, 
and  in  very  early  years  taught  himself  to  play  the  flute 
and  flageolet.  He  was  great  because  of  his  inborn 
genius  for  melody,  his  sensitive  perceptions,  his  innate 
tenderness  and  nobility  of  character.  Foster's  environ- 
ment was  unusually  inspiring  to  song.  He  was  born  at 
Lawrenceville,  in  the  Allegheny  hills,  Pennsylvania, 
July  4,  18"26.  The  tension  of  modern  conditions  had 
not  as  yet  affected  his  community.  There  was  time  to 

4rearu  as  well  as  to  do.     In  early  days  Foster  listened 

m 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

much  to  the  singing  of  the  negroes,  which  strongly 
influenced  his  own  music  in  later  years.  He  was  well 
educated,  well  informed  on  many  topics,  at  ease  and  on 
equal  terms  with  men  of  genius  in  other  fields  than  his 
own.  His  life  was  a  bitter  romance.  An  unhappy 
marriage  and  other  misfortunes  drove  him  to  dissipation 
and  after  the  death  of  his  mother,  whom  he  loved  with 
all  the  intensity  of  his  nature,  he  became  more  and  more 
the  victim  of  drink.  Many  of  his  songs,  composed  in 
the  morning,  were  sold  in  the  evening  for  an  hour's 
forgetfulness.  His  death  was  the  result  of  an  accident 
in  a  New  York  hotel,  when  he  rose  from  his  bed,  weak 
with  fever,  and  gashed  his  face  and  neck  on  a  piece  of 
broken  glass.  He  died  January  13,  1864.  If  he  had 
erred,  as  Mr.  Louis  Elson  has  admirably  remarked, 
'The  light  that  led  astray  was  light  from  heaven. ": 
Foster  composed  his  first  song,  "Open  Thy  Lattice, 
Love,"  when  he  was  sixteen.  "Uncle  Ned,"  composed 
for  a  club  of  young  men  who  were  in  the  custom  of 
meeting  at  Foster's  house  to  sing  together,  is  said  to  be 
one  of  the  first  songs  which  showed  sympathy  and 
understanding  of  the  lot  of  the  black  man.  Its  sale  in 
later  years  netted  a  publisher,  who  understood  its  value 
better  than  Foster,  ten  thousand  dollars,  and  this  sum 
was  one  of  the  initial  profits  of  a  great  music-publishing 
business.  When  Foster  composed  "Open  Thy  Lattice, 
Love"  he  wrote  only  the  music.  For  "Uncle  Ned," 
and  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  other  songs,  he  wrote 
text  as  well  as  melody,  since,  in  his  own  words,  he  found 
that  "the  difficulty  of  harmonizing  sounds  with  words" 
made  this  necessary.  His  text  was  not  always  the  most 
distinctive  in  point  of  style,  but,  as  in  the  case  of  "Uncle 
Ned,"  it  was  direct,  idiomatic,  and  genuine  in  its  feeling. 

"  Uncle  Ned  " 

Sung  by  Graham  Marr  and  Columbia  Stellar  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  5855 

308 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

In  a  similar  vein,  and  in  words  and  music  which 
brought  home  the  scenes  he  described,  were  the  songs, 
"Old  Black  Joe"  and  "Massa's  in  de  Cold,  Cold 
Ground." 

"  Old  Black  Joe  " 
Sung  by  Barbara  Maurel  and  Columbia  Stellar  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  6091 
Sung  by  Louis  Graveure  Columbia  Record  A  5959 

"  Massa's  in  de  Cold,  Cold  Ground  " 

Sung  by  Lucy  Gates  and  Stellar  Quartet  Columbia  Record  A  6015 

Played  by  the  Taylor  Trio  Columbia  Record  A  1934 

These  songs  had  and  have  their  place  in  the  life  of 
the  American  people,  but  the  two  songs  in  which  Foster 
is  greatest  are  undoubtedly  "My  Old  Kentucky  Home," 
said  to  have  been  inspired  by  a  visit  to  the  estate  of 
an  uncle  in  Kentucky,  and  "Old  Folks  at  Home" — 
scngs  in  which  Foster  touches  a  note  so  deep  and  so 
true  that  they  would  be  welcomed  and  understood 
almost  anywhere  in  the  world,  whatever  the  locality, 
whatever  the  tongue  of  the  people.  It  has  been  re- 
marked by  authorities  on  the  subject  that  no  country 
has  produced  "composed  folk-songs"  which  surpass  in 
simple  eloquence  and  beauty  those  of  Foster. 

"  My  Old  Kentucky  Home  " 
Sung  by  Lucy  Gates  and  Columbia  Stellar  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  6059 
Played  by  the  Taylor  Trio  Columbia  Record  A  1915 

Stephen  Foster's  brother,  Morrison,  in  his  Biography ', 
Songs  and  Musical  Compositions  of  Stephen  C.  Foster, 
tells  of  the  composition  of  "Old  Folks  at  Home": 
"One  day  in  1851,  Stephen  came  into  my  office,  on  the 
bank  of  the  Monongahela,  Pittsburgh,  and  said  to  me, 
'What  is  a  good  name  of  two  syllables  for  a  Southern 
river?  I  want  to  use  it  in  this  new  song  of  'Old  Folks 

309 


at  Home.'  I  asked  him  how  Yazoo  would  do.  'Oh,' 
said  he,  'that  has  been  used  before.'  I  then  suggested 
Pedee.  'Oh,  pshaw!'  he  replied,  'I  won't  have  that.' 
I  then  took  down  an  atlas  from  the  top  of  my  desk 
and  opened  the  map  of  the  United  States.  We  both 
looked  over  it  and  my  finger  stopped  at  the  'Swanee,' 
a  little  river  in  Florida  emptying  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
'That's  it,  that's  it  exactly,'  exclaimed  he,  delighted, 
as  he  wrote  the  name  down;  and  the  song  was  finished, 
commencing,  "Way  down  upon  de  Swanee  Ribber.' 
He  left  the  office,  .as  was  his  custom,  abruptly  .  .  .  and  I 
resumed  my  work.  Just  at  that  time  he  received  a  letter 
from  E.  P.  Christy  [a  noted  "negro  minstrel"  of  the  day 
—Ed.],  of  New  York,  .  .  .  asking  him  if  he  would  write 
a  song  for  Christy,  which  the  latter  might  sing  before  it 
was  published.  Stephen  showed  me  the  letter  and  asked 
what  he  should  do.  I  said  to  him,  'Don't  let  him  do  it 
unless  he  pays  you.'  At  his  request  I  drew  up  a  form 
of  agreement  for  Christy  to  sign,  stipulating  to  pay 
Stephen  five  hundred  dollars  for  the  privilege  he  asked. 
This  was  forwarded  to  Christy,  and  return  mail  brought 
it  back  duly  signed  by  the  latter.  The  song  happened 
to  be  'Old  Folks  at  Home."  Such  was  the  history  of 
what  is  probably  Foster's  greatest  song. 

"  Old  Folks  at  Home  "  ("  Swanee  Ribber  ") 
Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle  and  Columbia  Stellar  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  6082 
Played  by  the  Taylor  Trio  Columbia  Record  A  1915 

The  authorship  of  the  melody  of  "Home,  Sweet 
Home,"  a  song  which  Americans  have  taken  to  their 
hearts,  has  for  a  long  time  been  in  doubt.  The  words 
are  by  John  Howard  Paine,  who,  born  in  New  York  in 
1792,  lived  some  years  in  England,  wandered  over  the 
face  of  the  earth,  and  died  in  Tunis  in  185C2  while  serving 
there  as  United  States  Consul.  The  music  is  of  Euro- 

310 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

pean  origin.  "Clari,  the  Maid  of  Milan,"  a  play  with 
verses  by  Paine,  and  music  partly  composed,  partly 
arranged  by  Henry  R.  Bishop,  was  performed  in  London 
May  8,  1823.  The  climax  of  the  drama  hinged  on  the 
return  of  the  heroine,  forsaken  and  betrayed,  to  her 
homestead,  and  it  was  this  situation  which  introduced 
the  famous  song.  Though  it  went  far  and  wide,  Bishop, 
who  lived  for  thirty-three  years  after  its  first  perform- 
ance, never  took  pains  to  assert  its  authorship.  But  an 
examination  of  his  score,  in  which  the  air  appears  more 
than  once  in  variation,  seems  to  prove  that  the  song  is 
of  a  piece  with  the  work  in  which  it  appears.  "Home, 
Sweet  Home"  was  first  sung  in  America  by  Mrs.  Hoi- 
man,  when  "Clari,  the  Maid  of  Milan"  was  performed, 
on  the  12th  of  November,  1823,  in  New  York. 

"  Home,  Sweet  Home  " 

Sung  by  Hulda  Laschanska  Columbia  Record    49339 

Played  by  the  Taylor  Trio  Columbia  Record  A  1866 

MEXICO 

A  folk-music  near  to  America  in  location  and  hence 
to  a  certain  degree  in  racial  consciousness  is  that  which 
comes  originally  from  Spain,  via  Mexico.  The  melody, 
"La  Paloma"  ("The  Dove"),  bears  the  name  of  Sebas- 
tian Yradier,  the  Spanish  composer  who  furnished 
Bizet  with  the  original  musical  idea  of  the  Habanera 
from  "Carmen."  It  is  a  "composed  folk-song."  It  is 
based  on  the  rhythm  of  the  Habanera,  a  dance  believed 
to  have  originated  in  Havana,  though  in  all  probability 
it  also  came  from  Spain.  It  is  tropical  in  its  tenderness 
and  ardor,  in  the  capriciously  rhythmed  melody  wThich 
Yradier  has  set  over  his  swinging  bass.  The  words  of 
the  song  are  very  slight,  like  those  of  many  melodies 
heard  in  Mexico  and  Spanish  America.  It  is  a  love- 
song,  naive,  outspoken,  Latin  in  a  certain  childlike 

311 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

frankness  and  fervor.  It  is  hard  to  believe,  and  it  lias 
yet  to  be  proven,  that  Yradier  did  not  pick  up  this 
melody  from  some  highway  or  byway  of  Spain  or  her 
possessions.  For  it  has  not  only  the  folk  feeling,  but  the 
irregular  form  of  melody  that  one  finds  in  music  of  more 
or  less  primitive  origin.  So  much  for  the  racial  and 
geographic  origins.  The  historical  connection  is  dra- 
matic. The  unfortunate  Maximilian,  deserted  by  the 
scheming  Napoleon  III,  condemned  for  his  adventure 
into  Mexico  by  the  government  of  the  United  States, 
asked  that  this  melody  be  played  as  he  was  led  out  to 
execution. 

"  La  Paloma  " 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari  Columbia  Record    49758 

Played  by  Hawaiian  Guitars  and  Ukulele  Trio,   Columbia  Record  A  2405 

A  song  of  less  intensity,  but  captivating  in  its  exotic 
grace  and  fire,  is  the  "Manzanilla."  Manzanilla  is  the 
name  of  a  town  near  Seville,  in  Spain.  It  is  also  the 
name  of  a  light,  dry  wine  popular  in  Spain  and  Spanish 
colonies.  There  are  two  strains  in  this  dance  melody, 
one  languorous  and  caressing,  the  other  vigorously 
rhythmical,  the  two  together  typical  of  many  Spanish 
dances  in  which  rhythm  and  action  alternate  between 
these  moods. 

"  The  Manzanilla  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  2593 

It  can  be  seen  from  the  foregoing  how  clearly  folk- 
songs reflect  the  heredity  and  environment  of  the 
people  from  which  they  spring.  It  is  true  that  these 
melodies  sometimes  travel  very  far,  but  in  order  to  sur- 
vive, the  song  must  have  something  in  common  with  the 
temperament  of  the  new  community  in  which  it  finds 
itself.  The  folk-songs  of  foreign  peoples  which  have 
entered  most  intimately  into  the  lives  of  Americans  are 

312 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

those  of  the  British  Isles,  of  Italy,  and  in  a  lesser  degree 
those  of  Spain,  Russia,  and  Scandinavia.  French 
folk-songs  have  a  greater  vogue  in  Canada  than  here, 
which  is  a  pity,  for  there  are  many  very  lovely  ones. 
Melodies  of  Oriental  peoples  are  farther  afield  from  our 
consciousness,  although  such  is  the  variety  of  races 
settled  on  this  soil  that  there  are  few  types  of  folk- 
songs in  the  world  which  could  not  be  discovered  in 
some  corner  of  the  country. 

ENGLAND 

Songs  of  the  British  Isles  breathe  the  sweetness  of 
the  countryside,  the  freshness  of  the  morning,  the  gaiety 
of  the  peasant  folk.  They  have  a  healthy  jollity  and 
sturdiness  bespeaking  the  vigor  and  sanity  of  the  Eng- 
lish people. 

An  example  of  the  gentler  type  of  English  song,  dis- 
tinguished by  tender  sentiment  and  an  exquisite  refine- 
ment of  melody,  is  afforded  by  the  beautiful  air  to 
which  Ben  Johson  set  the  words,  "Drink  to  me  only  with 
thine  eyes."  Seldom  has  a  folk-air  been  more  happily 
mated  to  a  poetic  text.  The  melody  appears  to  be  at 
least  as  old  as  that  of  "Down  Among  the  Dead  Men," 
and  its  authorship,  also,  is  unknown. 

"  Drink  to  Me  Only  With  Thine  Eyes  " 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle  Columbia  Record  A  6071 

Played  by  W.  H.  Squire,  'cellist,  and  Hamilton 

Harty,  pianist  Columbia  Record  A  5832 

The  simple,  naive  harmony,  the  apple-cheeked  gaiety 
of  English  folk-dances  are  admirably  illustrated  by  the 
melodies  which  have  been  collected  and  harmonized, 
with  sensitive  feeling  and  musicianship,  by  Cecil  J. 
Sharpe.  The  country  dance,  in  days  gone  by,  was  the 
social  recreation  of  the  peasantry  over  the  whole  country- 

313 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

side.  Thanks  largely  to  the  efforts  of  Mr.  Sharpe,  it  is 
being  revived  in  England,  and  practised  as  a  means  of 
healthful  recreation  in  the  United  States. 

"Sellenger's  Round"  is  a  melody  of  great  antiquity. 
It  was  arranged  for  Queen  Elizabeth  by  her  music- 
teacher,  Doctor  Byrd.  Its  original  name  appears  to 
have  been  "Saint  Leger's  Round"  or  "The  beginning  of 
the  world."  It  was  very  popular  in  England  during  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  and  its  beauty  and 
vigor  are  felt  when  it  is  played  to-day. 

"  Sellenger's  Round,"  "  Rufty-Tufty,"  "  Sweet  Kate  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  3065 

IRELAND 

Ireland  has  produced  some  of  the  most  beautiful, 
varied,  and  imaginative  folk-music  in  the  world. 

The  song  "Robin  Adair"  was  long  believed  to  be  of 
Scottish  origin,  but  later  researches  indicate  that  it  came 
from  Ireland.  According  to  tradition  it  was  composed 
by  the  Irish  harper,  Carrol  O'Daly,  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  and  was  inspired  by  a  romantic 
incident  of  his  own  life.  O'Daly  loved  Eileen  O'Cava- 
nagh  of  the  county  of  Connacht.  Her  family,  however, 
looked  unfavorably  on  his  suit.  When  O'Daly  returned 
from  an  enforced  absence  he  found  that  Eileen  had  been 
prevailed  on  by  her  relatives  to  promise  her  hand  to 
another.  Filled  with  despair  he  sought  a  solitary  spot 
and  from  a  full  heart  composed  the  song  "Eileen  Aroon" 
— the  melody  of  "Robin  Adair."  Next  day,  disguised 
as  a  harper,  O'Daly  appeared  at  the  wedding  festivities, 
and  at  the  request  of  the  bride  herself  played  his  newly 
composed  air.  Needless  to  say,  the  song  had  the  de- 
sired effect.  Recognizing,  under  the  disguise  of  a  travel- 
ing musician,  the  identity  of  the  harper,  Eileen,  with  a 

314 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

swift  return  of  affection  for  her  former  lover,  eloped 
with  him  that  night. 

Although  this  melody  was  printed  as  an  Irish  air,  at 
least  as  early  as  1729,  it  subsequently  appeared  in  several 
eighteenth-century  collections  of  Scotch  melodies.  It 
was  the  custom  in  olden  time  for  Irish  harpers  and  wan- 
dering minstrels  to  make  trips  through  Scotland,  with 
very  much  the  same  purposes  which  animate  the  artist 
who  tours  a  foreign  country  to-day.  Now  Dennis 
O'Hempsey  (or  Hempsen),  a  celebrated  Irish  harper, 
born  in  1695,  made  a  tour  of  Scotland  in  his  youth, 
and  played  as  one  of  his  most  popular  airs  the  melody 
cf  "Eileen  Aroon."  This  was  caught  up  and  widely 
circulated  by  the  native  Highland  minstrels  and  was 
published  and  printed  as  a  Scotch  air,  to  which  were 
eventually  fitted  the  words  of  "Robin  Adair." 

"  Robin  Adair  " 

Played  by  Jean  Schwiller,  'cellist 
Columbia  Record  A  1350 

"My  Love's  an  Arbutus,"  one  of  the  loveliest  of  folk- 
songs, was  noted  down  by  the  musical  antiquary,  George 
Petrie,  from  the  singing  of  an  old  gentleman  who  had 
learned  it  in  his  childhood.  The  original  words  began, 
"I  rise  ev'ry  morning  with  a  heart  full  of  woe."  The 
author  of  the  present  words  is  Alfred  Percival  Graves, 
and  the  musical  harmonization  is  that  of  Charles  Villiers 
Stanford. 

"  My  Love's  an  Arbutus  " 
Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle     • 
Columbia  Record  A  5916 

One  of  the  most  popular  dance  tunes  of  Ireland  is 
known  as  "Miss  McLeod's  Reel."  It  is  a  folk-melody 
of  great  antiquity.  Beranger,  a  French  traveler  through 
Ireland  in  the  eighteenth  century,  says  that  it  was  one 
of  the  favorite  tunes  which  the  Galway  pipers  played 

25  315 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

to  him  in  1779.  At  the  Munster  festival  of  1906  it 
was  the  only  reel  played  for  the  prize  competition  in 
Irish  dancing.  It  is  an  excellent  example  of  Irish  dance 
music,  and  well  reflects  the  lighter  yet  poetic  spirit  of 
the  people.  A  whole  volume,  indeed,  might  be  written 
on  the  wonderful  variety  of  style  and  feeling  discovered 
in  Irish  jig  tunes.  These  tunes  are  often  used  as  march 
tunes  and  are  great  favorites  with  the  fife-and-drum 
corps.  One  of  the  most  noted  of  them,  "Garryowen," 
was  called  by  Theodore  Roosevelt  "the  finest  marching 
tune  in  the  world." 

"  Miss  McLeod's  Reel  " 

Played  by  Prince's  Orchestra 

Columbia  Record  A  1474 

The  original  text  of  "Believe  me  if  all  those  endearing 
young  charms,"  which  dates  from  before  1700,  began 
"My  lodging  is  on  the  cold,  cold  ground,"  and  there  are 
districts  in  which  the  song  is  still  sung  to  these  words. 
Some  authorities  claim  that  the  song  is  English,  while 
about  an  equal  number  assert  that  it  is  of  Irish  origin. 
The  tender  and  beautiful  melody  is  of  a  type  which 
tends  to  support  the  latter  assumption,  though  it  was 
first  printed  as  part  of  the  music  of  an  English  ballad- 
opera  in  1737,  and  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  collection 
of  Irish  music  before  1787. 

"  Believe  Me  if  All  Those  Endearing  Young  Charms  " 
Sung  by  Alice  Nielsen  Columbia  Record  A  5678 

Sung  by  David  Bispham  Columbia  Record  A  5095 

"The  Minstrel  Boy,"  a  heroic  and  sturdy  air,  is  one 
of  the  finest  of  Irish  melodies.  It  caused  Tom  Moore 
to  compose  for  it  the  poem  to  which  it  has  ever  been 
sung.  The  air,  formerly  called  "The  Moreen,"  was 
printed  by  Bunting  in  a  noted  collection  of  Irish  airs  in 
1809. 

316 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"The  Minstrel  Boy  " 

Sung  by  Reed  Miller 

Columbia  Record  A  1144 

"The  Last  Rose  of  Summer"  gains  its  title  from  the 
verses  Tom  Moore  set  to  a  melody,  the  original  name 
of  which  was  "The  Groves  of  Blarney."  The  beauty  of 
this  melody  attracted  the  notice  of  Beethoven,  who  set 
it  as  a  song  for  voice  with  piano  accompaniment.  Flo- 
tow  introduced  it  in  its  entirety  as  one  of  the  numbers 
in  his  opera,  "Martha."  This  caused  Hector  Berlioz, 
who  evidently  did  not  think  highly  of  Flotow's  work, 
to  remark  that  the  beautiful  folk-song  "disinfected"  the 
entire  opera.  And  indeed  there  are  few  songs  which 
more  fittingly  embody  the  happy  description  of  folk 
melodies  given  by  the  late  Mr.  Elson,  who  described 
them  as  the  wild  flowers  of  music. 

"  The  Last  Rose  of  Summer  " 

Sung  by  Lucy  Gates 
Columbia  Record  A  5993 

The  scenery  is  most  romantic  where  the  waters  of 
the  Avon  and  the  Avoca  meet.  This  inspired  the  words 
of  the  song  which  Moore  wrote  to  the  traditional 
Irish  air,  "The  Old  Head  of  Dennis."  The  air  is  com- 
posed in  a  scale  of  but  six  tones,  the  seventh,  or  leading 
tone  of  our  prevailing  major  and  minor  scales  being 
absent.  It  was  taken  down  from  the  singing  of  an  old 
peasant  woman  of  Sligo  by  George  Petrie. 

"  The  Meeting  of  the  Waters  " 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle 
Columbia  Record  A  5916 

SCOTLAND 

What  Thomas  Moore  did  for  Irish  folk-music  Robert 

Burns  had  done  for  Scotch  folk-music  some  time  pre- 
317 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

viousiy.  He  wrote  truly  poetical  verses  of  a  folklike 
character  for  many  of  the  traditional  Scottish  airs. 
With  both  poets  this  was  a  labor  of  love,  a  task  which 
engaged  their  deepest  feelings;  and  in  the  case  of  Burns, 
as  well  as  that  of  Moore,  it  is  by  the  first  lines  of  their 
poems  that  many  of  the  traditional  Scotch  and  Irish 
airs  are  now  known.  Here  the  similarity  ceases,  how- 
ever, for  while  Burns  frequently  took  the  old  words  and 
the  idea  they  contained,  recasting  both  in  a  truly  poetic 
and  much  more  beautiful  form,  Moore  usually  wrote  an 
entirely  original  poem  in  what  he  conceived  to  be  the 
spirit  of  the  melody  which  he  had  in  mind. 

The  text  of  "Flow  Gently,  Sweet  Afton"  is  by  Burns. 
The  song  was  presented  as  a  gift  to  Mrs.  Stewart  of 
Afton  Lodge,  on  the  banks  of  Afton  River.  Burns  set 
the  text  to  a  melody  of  unknown  origin.  J.  E.  Spilman 
detached  Burns's  words  from  the  old  air,  and  composed 
a  melody  for  them  so  good  that  the  first  tune  has  been 
entirely  supplanted  by  the  second. 

"  Flow  Gently,  Sweet  Afton  " 

Sung  by  Corinne  Rider-Kelsey 

Columbia  Record  A  5720 

"Loch  Lomond"  is  one  of  the  most  noble  and  beauti- 
ful of  Scotch  airs.  According  to  Lady  Jane  Scott,  both 
air  and  words  are  traditional  and  were  taken  down  by 
her  from  a  street  singer  in  Edinburgh.  According  to 
other  authorities,  it  is  a  modern  composed  Scotch  air. 
If  so,  the  composer  has  achieved  a  height  of  eloquence 
and  simplicity  seldom  equaled  by  other  composers  who 
tried  to  emulate  "the  folk." 

"  Loch  Lomond  " 

Sung  by  Columbia  Stellar  Quartet 

Columbia  Record  A  5899 

G.  Farquhar  Graham  says  that  "Comin'  Through  the 
Rye"  is  "probably  a  dance-tune  of  the  early  times  of 

318 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

the  eighteenth  century."  It  is  a  fine  example  of  folk- 
song evolution,  since  there  are  several  old  Scotch  airs 
of  which  it  may  easily  be  a  development.  The  words  are 
by  Robert  Burns.  The  melody  offers  an  excellent  illus- 
tration of  "the  Scotch  snap,"  as  seen,  for  example, 
in  the  rhvthmical  arrangement  of  the  two  syllables  of 
"bod-y"and  "corn-in',"  etc. 

"  Comin'  Through  the  Rye  " 

Sung  by  Mary  Garden 
Columbia  Record  A  1190 

The  touching  melody  of  "John  Anderson,"  long  pre- 
served by  oral  tradition,  was  at  length  written  down  in 
the  year  1578  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  Virginal  Book,  which 
is  still  preserved.  John  Anderson  was  a  real  personage, 
and,  according  to  tradition,  the  town  piper  of  Kelso  and 
a  good  deal  of  a  joker.  The  old  verses  about  him  are 
all  of  a  humorous  character.  But  Burns,  in  composing 
his  verses  for  this  melody,  has  idealized  and  poetized 
the  traditional  character  of  John  Anderson,  and  in  so 
doing  has  produced  a  poem  which  is  beautifully  fitted 
to  the  simple  and  dignified  character  of  the  old  melody. 

"  John  Anderson,  My  Jo  " 

Sung  by  Mary  Garden 
Columbia  Record  A  1190 

The  melody  of  "Ye  Banks  and  Braes  o'  Bonnie  Doon" 
is  said  to  have  been  partly  "faked"  on  the  black  keys 
of  the  piano  by  a  Mr.  James  Miller,  an  Edinburgh  author 
who  was  greatly  desirous  of  composing  a  Scotch  tune. 
His  beginning  was  completed  by  Stephen  Clark,  ar- 
ranger of  music  for  "Johnson's  Museum."  Curiously 
enough,  the  tune  appears  to  have  been  based,  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  on  an  old  English  air,  "Lost 
Is  My  Quiet  Forever."  The  words  are  by  Burns. 

319 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

"  Ye  Banks  and  Braes  o'  Bonnie  Doon  " 

Sung  by  Corinne  Rider-Kelsey 

Columbia  Record  A  5733 

The  song,  "Annie  Laurie,"  was  composed  by  Lady 
John  Scott.  The  original  words  were  written  by  a  Mr. 
Douglas  of  Fingland  to  Annie,  a  daughter  of  Sir  Rob- 
ert Laurie,  first  baronet  of  Maxwelton,  Carcal,  1685. 
"It  is  painful  to  record  that,  notwithstanding  the  ardent 
and  chivalrous  affection  displayed  by  Mr.  Douglas  in 
his  poem,  he  did  not  obtain  the  heroine  for  a  wife. 
She  married  a  Mr.  Ferguson  of  Craigdarroch."  The 
original  words  have  been  a  trifle  modernized,  but  only 
slightly,  the  first  verse  being  unchanged. 

"  Annie  Laurie  " 

Sung  by  Hulda  Laschanska 

Columbia  Record  49338 

WALES 

The  folk-music  of  Wales  probably  contains  musical 
fragments  of  greater  antiquity  than  are  to  be  found  else- 
where in  the  British  Isles,  for  "Wild  Wales,"  as  one  of 
the  ancient  bards  calls  it,  was  the  last  stronghold  of  the 
original  inhabitants  of  Britain.  A  small  but  very 
mountainous  country,  its  folk-music  is  of  an  equally 
wild  character  with  that  of  the  Irish,  but  on  the  whole 
more  rugged  and  sturdy.  It  does  not  have  the  element 
of  humor,  as  has  that  of  the  Irish,  but  is  of  a  serious 
and  frequently  even  of  a  martial  character.  Many  of 
the  Welsh  folk-songs  are  vocal  marches  of  a  stirring 
quality  which  were  evidently  used  as  battle-songs  in 
days  gone  by.  That  the  Welsh  are  not  entirely  given  to 
the  expression  of  rugged  and  heroic  emotions  in  their 
music  is  evidenced  by  such  a  tender  and  poetic  song  as 
"All  Through  the  Night."  This  is  a  fine  traditional 
Welsh  melody  of  great  age:  simple,  dignified,  and  ex- 

320 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

pressive.  It  is  the  most  popular  Welsh  air  in  England. 
Mrs.  Opie  wrote  a  poem  for  it,  beginning,  "Here  beneath 
a  willow  weepeth  poor  Mary  Ann." 

But  the  best  Welsh  tune  of  all,  to  our  mind,  is  the 
sturdy  old  "March  of  the  Men  of  Harlech,"  wrhich 
has  been  sung  for  nearly  five  centuries.  It  was  first 
published  in  Jones's  Relics  of  the  Welsh  Bards,  in  1794, 
but  was  composed  about  1468,  when  the  Yorks  captured 
Merionethshire,  the  ancient  capital  of  Wales,  from  the 
Lancastrians.  Doctor  Crotch,  referring  to  the  war- 
songs  of  this  place  and  period,  says  that  "the  military 
music  of  the  Welsh  is  superior  to  that  of  any  other 
nation."  On  the  other  side  of  the  record  is  another 
splendid  old  Welsh  air,  of  fully  as  ancient  origin,  in  all 
probability,  as  the  better  known  "March  of  the  Men  of 
Harlech."  The  instrumentation  and  performance  of 
this  music  by  a  Welsh  band  is  eminently  in  keeping  with 
its  virile  and  wild  character. 

"  Men  of  Harlech  "  and  "  Sony  Botel  " 

Played  by  Welsh  Band 

Columbia  Record  E  7106 

ITALY 

This  is  the  land  which  inspired  Mignon's  song,  the 
land  of  sunshine,  beauty,  and  noble  art  traditions.  Its 
folk-songs  reflect  and  express  this  graceful  and  beauty- 
loving  spirit,  and  are  characterized  by  a  most  seductive 
charm.  Many  of  the  flowing  curves  of  Italian  melody 
seem  almost  plastic,  like  the  tender  and  noble  lines  of 
the  antique  statues.  Italian  folk-songs  are  filled  with 
a  care-free  spirit,  and  are  a  perfect  expression  of  the 
sensuous  joy  of  living.  It  is  not  easy  to  divide  Italian 
song  into  different  types  and  classes,  for  the  reason 
that  Italians  all  love  music,  and  make  it  their  own, 
whether  it  is  a  street  song  or  an  aria  from  a  grand  opera. 

321 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

The  Neapolitan  song,  "Santa  Lucia,"  was  sung  in 
the  streets  of  Naples  as  early  as  1853.  It  is  a  folk-song 
of  the  composed  variety,  and  is  one  of  the  most  popular 
folk-melodies.  The  composer  is  T.  Cottrau.  The  song 
is  a  great  favorite  with  the  Naples  fishermen. 

"  Santa  Lucia  " 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari  Columbia  Record     78100 

Sung  by  Columbia  Stellar  Quartet  Columbia  Record  A  2465 

A  song  of  a  similar  type,  which  is  the  incarnation  of 
joyous  spirits  and  musical  grace,  is  the  Neapolitan  song 
of*Di  Capua,  "O  sole  mio"  ("O  sun  I  love"). 

"  O  sole  mio  " 

Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari  Columbia  Record     78097 

Sung  by  Oscar  Seagle  (in  English)  Columbia  Record  A  5676 

Another  Italian  song,  so  widely  popular  that,  although 
the  work  of  a  well-known  musician  in  recent  years,  it 
is  to  all  intents  and  purposes  a  folk-song,  is  Denza's 
"Funiculi,  Funicula."  This  song  was  composed  in  1880, 
and  it  commemorates  in  Neapolitan  dialect  the  then 
recent  completion  of  the  Funicular  Railway  to  the 
summit  of  Vesuvius. 

"  Funiculi,  Funicula  " 
Sung  by  Riccardo  Stracciari  Columbia  Record     78104 


KEY 


as   in    far (fahr) 

at (at) 

"  at  end  of  syllables  and  words 
air,  the  ai  occurring  before  r  (fair) 

fade (fayd) 

met (met) 

"   at  end  of  syllables  and  words 

meet (meet) 

hurt (heurt) 

"    at  end  of  syllables  and  words 

pin (pin) 

not (not) 

note (noht) 

move (moov) 

hut (hut) 

"  at  end  of  syllables  and  words 

u  put (put) 

u  No  English  equivalent.  Try  to  pronounce 
(ee)  with  lips  in  position  for  whistling.  Result 
resembles  French  u. 


NASAL  VOWELS 

Xasal  vowels  (indicated  in  the  succeeding  table  by  a  dot 
or  accent  over  the  letter),  most  frequently  encountered  in  the 
French  language,  have  no  precise  English  equivalents.  They 
occur  when  a  vowel  is  followed  by  an  N  or  M  (on,  om).  A 
good  idea  of  their  nasal  twang  may  be  gained  by  closing  the 
nostrils  with  the  fingers  while  sounding  the  vowels  listed 
below.  In  these  combinations  the  N  sound,  which  gives 
the  vowel  its  nasal  quality,  loses  separate  pronunciation.  The 
final  letter  of  the  French  word  "mon,"  for  example,  is  not 
pronounced,  though  it  is  felt  in  the  nasal  quality  of  the  o. 
A  common  error  is  to  sound  this  final  consonant  as  if  the 
word  were  spelled  monn  or  mong.  After  the  nasal  o,  when 
the  word  is  correctly  pronounced,  the  lips  remain  open,  this 

323 


open  sound  being  nearest  represented  by  the  letter  H.     Hence 
the  present  system  of  indicating  nasal  vowels:  mon=  (mohn). 

French 

ohn  written  on  om o  as  in  wrong  bon— (bohn) 

dhn         "       an,  am,  en,  em .  a    "    "    father  temps  =  (t£hn) 

ahn         "      in,  ain,  ein .  .  .  .  a   "    "   rank    fin^(fahn) 

uhn        "      un,  um u   "    "   rung    parfum=(parfuhn) 

CONSONANTS 

gh  as  in  girl gheu(r)l 

gn  "    "  pinion (pign-yuhn) 

zh  "    "  pleasure (plezh-uhr) 

kh  "    "  Scotch  loch (lokh) 

Other  consonants  and  consonantal  combinations  as  in  English. 


TITLES   OF   BALLETS,   DRAMAS,   OPERAS, 
STRING  QUARTETS,   SUITES,   SYM- 
PHONIES, AND   OTHER   MUSI- 
CAL COMPOSITIONS 


Acis 

(ah-cis) 
Aida 

(ah-ee-dah) 
Almira 

(ahl-mee-ra) 
Aries,  Woman  of 

(ahrl) 
Arlesienne,  L' 

(lahr-lay-zee-en) 
Astyanax 

(ahs-ty-an-ax) 
Aureliano  in  Palmira 

(ah-oo-ray-lee-ah-noh    een    pahl- 

mee-rah) 


Bacio,  II 

(eel  bah-tshoh) 
Bal  Costume 

(bal-kos-t  u-may ) 
Bal  Masque 

(bal  mahs-kay) 
Ballo  in  Maschera 

(bahl-loh  een  mahs-kay-rah) 
Bamboula 

(bam-boo-lah) 
Barbiere  di  Siviglia,  II 

(eel  bahr-bee-eh-ray  dee  see-vee- 

lyah) 
Beatitudes,  Les 

(bay-ah-tee-tiid,  lay) 
Belle  Helene,  La 

(bel  ay-len,  lah) 
Boccanegra,  Simon 

(bok-kah-nay-grah,  see-mon) 


Boheme,  La 

(bo-em,  lah) 
Brabanconne,  La 

(brah-bahn-son,  lah) 


Caid,  Le 

(kah-eed.  leu) 
Carmen 

(kar-men) 
Carnaval  des  Animaux 

(kar-na-val  dayz  ah-nee-mo) 
Casse -Noisette  Suite 

(kahs-nwah-zet  sweet) 
Cavalleria  Rusticana 

(kah-vahl-lay-ree-ah    roos-tee- 

kah-nah) 
Chasseuresses,  Les 

(shas-sur-es,  lay) 
Childe  Harold  " 

(tsaeeld  har-euhld) 
Clovis  et  Clothilde 

(klo-vees  ay  klo-teeld) 
Contes  d'Hoffman 

(kohnt  dof-mahn) 
Coppelia 

(cop-ay-leeah) 
Coq  d'Or 

(kok-dor) 
Cortege  de  Bacchus 

(kohr-tayzh  deuh  baw-kus) 


Djamileh 

(dzha-mee-lay) 
Don  Carlos 

(don  kahr-los) 


325 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Don  Giovanni 

(don  gee-oh-vah-neej 
Don  Pasquale 

(don  pahs-kwah-lay) 
Don  Quixote 

(don  kee-ho-tay) 


Elisabetta,  regina  d'Inghilterra 

(ay-lee-zah-bet-tah,     ray-jee 

deen-gheel-ter-rah) 
Elisir  d'Amore,  L' 

(l'el-ee-seer  dah-mo-ray) 
Enfant  Prodigue,  L' 

(J'dhn-fahn  pro-deeg) 
Erinnyes,  Les 

(air-reen,  lays) 
Ernani 

(air-nah-nee) 
Ecclarmonde 

(es-clahr-mohnde) 
Eugen  Onegin 

(oy-ghayn  oh-nay-ghin) 


Ghiselle 

(ghee-sel) 
Gioconda,  La 

(joh-kohn-dah,  lah) 
Goyescas 

(go-yes-kahs) 
Grande  Tante,  La 

(grahnd  tahnt) 
Guillaume  Tell 

(gee-yohm  tel) 
-nah    Gustave  III 

(gus-tahv) 

H 
Hernani 

(air-nan-nee) 
Herodiade 

(ay-ro-dyad) 
Hora  Novissirna 

(hoh-rah  no-vees-see-mah) 
Huguenots,  Les 

(iig-no,  lays) 


Fantasie-Impromptu 

(fan-ta-ze  im-promp-tu) 
Faust 

(fahoost) 
Favorita,  La 

(fah-vo-ree-tah,  la) 
Femme  du  Tabarin,  La 

(fam  dii  tab-bar-rahn,  la) 
Fidelio 

(fee-day-lee-oh) 
Figaro 

(fee-gah-roh) 
Filtro,  II 

(feel-tro,  eel) 
Flieglinde  Hollander,  Der 

(fleeg-lin-dah  hoH-ahn-der,  day 
Forza  del  Destine 

(fcr-tza  del  des- tee-no) 
Friihling,  Der 

(frii-ling,  dayr) 

G 

Gallia 

(gal-leea) 
Gerontius 

(jay-ron-tee-oos) 


Impressions  d'ltalie 

(amp-rah-see-ohn  dee-tah-lee) 
lolanthe 

(ee-yo-lan-ty) 
Ismene 

(ees-men) 


Jeunesse  d'Hercule,  La 

(zhe-unes  dair-kiil,  la) 
Jocelyn 

(zhos-lahn) 
Jolie  Fille  de  Perth,  La 

(zho-lee  fee  deu  pairt,  la) 
Jongleur  de  Notre  Dame,  Le 

(zhohn-gleur  deu  notr  dam,  leu) 
Jota  Aragonesa 

(ho-tah  ah-rah-go-nay-sah) 

K 

Kyrie  Eleison 
(kii-ree  el-lay-son) 


Lakme 

(lahk-may) 
Letzter  Friihling 

(letzter  friih-ling) 
326 


T) 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Libera  me 

(lee-bay-rah  may) 
Lohengrin 

(lo-en-grin) 
Lombard!,  I 

(lom-bahr-dee,  ee) 
Lucia  di  Lammermoor 

(loo-cheeah  dee  lahm-rnair-moor) 
Lucrezia  Borgia 

(loo-kray-tzeeah,  bor-jah) 
Lucrezia  Floriani 

(los-kray-tzah  flo-ree-ah-nee) 
Luisa  Miller 

(looee-sah  meel-lair) 

M 
Manon 

(man-nohn) 
Manon  Lescaut 

(man-nohn  les-koh) 
Mariage  de  Loti,  Le 

(mar-ree-azh  deu  lo-tee,  leu) 
Marseillaise 

(mar-seh-yehz) 
Medecin  Malgre  Lui,  Le 

(mayd-sahn  mal-gray  luce,  leuh) 
Medici,  I 

(may-dee-chi,  ee) 
Mefistofele 

(may-fees-to-fay-lay) 
Meistersinger,  Die 

(mys-ter-seen-ger,  dee) 
Mignon 

(mee-gnohn) 
Mireille 

(mee-reh-yee) 
Miserables,  Les 

(mee-zay-rabl,  lay) 
Mors  et  Vita 

(mors  et  vee-tah) 

N 

Naile,  die  Quellen  Fee 

(nahee-lah,  dee  kvel-len  fay) 
Natoma 

(nah-toh-mah)     . 
Navarraise,  La 

(nav-var-raiz,  lah) 
Noel 

(no-el) 
Norm  a 

(nor-mah) 


Nuit  a  Lisbonne 
(niieet  tal  lees-bon) 


O 


Oberto,  Conte  di  San  Bonifacio 

(o-bair-to,  kon-tay  dee  san  bo- 

nee-fah-tsho) 
Oiseau  de  Feu 

(wa-zo  deuh  feu) 
Orestia 

(o-res-tee-ah) 
Orphee  aux  Enfers 

(or-fay  ohz  dim-fair) 
Otello 

(o-tel-lo 


Pagliacci 

(pahgl-yaht-tshi) 
Parsifal 

(par-si-fal) 
Pecheurs  des  Perles,  Les 

(peh-sheur-day  pairl,  lay) 
Peer  Gynt 

(peer  gint) 
Pelleas  et  Melisande 

(pel-lay-ahs  ay  may-lee-zdhnd) 
Petite  Suite 

(peuh-teet  sweet) 
Petrouchka 

(pay-trootsh-ka) 
Phaeton 

(fah-ay-tohn) 
Pique  Dame 

(peek  dam) 
Pirata, II 

(pee-rah-tah,  eel) 
Polyeucte 

(pohl-yookth) 
Portrait  de  Manon,  Le 

(por-treh  deuh  mah-nohn,  leuh) 
Prelude     a      1'Apres-midi     d'un 

Faune 

(pray-liid    ah   lap-pray   mee-dee 

deuhn  fohn) 
Prince  Igor 

(ee-gor) 
Promessi  Sposi,  I 

(promes-see  spo-zee,  ee) 
Prometheus 

(pro-mee-  thy  oos) 


327 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Puritani,  I 

(poo-ree-tah-nee,  ee) 

R 

Reine  de  Saba 

(rehn-deuh  sah-bah) 
Requiem 

(rey-kwiem) 
Reve  Angelique 

(raiv-dhn-zhay-leek) 
Rhapsodic  d'Auvergne 

(rap-so-dee  do-vairgn) 
Rienzi 

(ree-en-zee) 
Rigoletto 

(ree-go-let-to) 
Rinaldo 

(ree-nahl-do) 
Roi  Malgre  Lui,  Le 

(rwa  mal-gray  Itiee,  leuh) 
Roi  s'amuse,  Le 

(rwa  sam-muz,  leuh) 
Rondo  Perpetuo 

(rohn-doh  pair-pet-oo-o) 
Rosamunde 

(rosa-mund-a) 
Rouet  d'Omphale,  Le 

(rweh  dom-fal,  leuh) 
Ruy  Bias 

(ruee  blah) 


Samson  et  Delilah 

(sahn-sohn  ay  day-lee-lah) 
Sardanapale 

(sar-dah-nah-pal) 
Scenes  Pittoresques 

(sen  peet^to-resk) 
Scheherazade 

(skay-ayr-ah-tzah-day) 
Semiramide 

(say-mee-rah-mee-day) 
Shanewis 

(shah-noo-is) 
Siegfried 

(zeeg-freed) 
Snegourotchka 

(shnay-goo-rotch-kah) 
Solveg's  Song 

(sol-vayghs) 
Sonata  appasionata 

(so-nah-tah  ap-pash-an-ah-tah) 


Sonnambula,  La 

(son-nahn-boolah,  lah) 
Source,  La 

(soors,  lah) 
Souvenirs  de  Hapsal 

(soo-veuh-neer  deuh  hap-sal) 
Stabat  Mater 

(stah-bat  mah-tayr) 
Suite  Algerienne 

(sweet  al-zhay-ree-en) 
Symphonic  Fantastique 

(sahn-fo-nee  fahn-tay-tik) 
Symphonic  Pathetique 

(sahn-fo-nee  pah-tay-teek) 


Tancredi 

(tahn-kray-dee) 
Tannhauser 

(tan-hoi-zer) 
TeDeum 

(tay  day-oom) 
Thais 

(tah-ees) 
Tosca,  La 

(tos-kah,  lah) 
Traviata,  La 

(trah-vee-ah-tah,  lah) 
Tristan  und  Isolde 

(tris-tahn  oond  ee-zol-dah) 
Trovatore,  II 

(tro-vah-to-ray,  eel) 

V 

Vie  de  Boheme,  La 
(vee  deuh  bo-em,  lah) 

W 
Walkiire 

(vahl-kii-ree) 
Walkxirenritt 

(vahl-k  ii-ren-rit) 
Werther 

(vair-tair) 


X 


Xerxes 

(zeurk-sees) 


Zoraide  di  Granata 

(tzo-rahee-day  dee  grah-nah-tah) 
328 


MUSICAL  AND   FOREIGN  TERMS 


Abbe 

(ab-bay) 
Adagietto 

(ah-dah-jet-toh) 
A  more 

(ah-moh-ray) 
Andante 

(ahn-dahn-tay) 
Andante  Cantabile 

(ahn-dahn-tay  kahn-tah-bee-lay) 
Anno  Domini 

(ahn-no  do-mee-nee) 
Apropos 

(ah-pro-po) 
Aria 

(ah-reeah) 

B 

Bacchanale 

(bahk-kah-nahl) 
Ballet 

(bal-leh) 
Bambino 

(bahm-bee-noh) 
Banderilleros 

(bahn-day-reegl-yay-ros) 
Barcarolle 

(bahr-kah-rol) 
Berceuse 

(bair-seuz) 
Bizarre 

(bee-zar) 
Boudoir 

(booh-dwahr) 
Boulevardiers 

(bool-var-dyay) 
Bravura 

(brah-voo-rah) 
Buffo 

(boof-foh) 


Cantabile 

(kahn-tah-bee-lay) 
Cantata 

(kahn-tah-tah) 
Cantor 

(kahn-tohr) 
Capellmeister 

(ka-pel-maee-tehr) 
Capriccio 

(kah-preets-shoh) 
Cavatina 

(kah-vah-tee-nah) 
Chorus  mysticus 

(ko-rtis  mees-tee-kiis) 
Chulos 

(tshoo-los) 
Coloratura 

(koh-loh-rah-too-rah) 
Cornedie  humaine 

(ko-may-dee  ii-men) 
Concerto 

(kohn-tser-toh) 
Contrabandista 

(kon-trah-bahn-dees-tah) 
Cortege 

(kor-tehzh) 
Cuadrilla 

(kwah-dreegl-yah) 
Czardas 

(tshahr-dahs) 


Debut 

(day-bii) 
Dies  irae 

(dee-es  ee-rahee) 
Distrait 

(dees-treh) 
Dolore 

(doh-loh-ray) 


Cadenza 

(kah-dents-sah) 
Cafe 

(kah-fay) 
Caleche 

(kah-lehsh) 
Campanella 

(kahn-pah-nel-lah) 


Ensemble 

(dhn-s&hmbl) 
Entree 

(dhn-tray) 
Esprit 

(es-pree) 
Etude 

(ay-tiid) 
329 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Fanfare 

(fahn-fahr) 
Fantasia 

(fahn-tah-zeeah) 
Farandole 

(fah-ran-dol) 
Fete 

(feht) 
Feuilletons 

(feuh-yee-tohn) 
Fiancee 

(fee-ahn-say) 
Finale 

(fee-nah-lay) 
Fugue 

(fyug) 


Gailos 

(gahee-tos) 

Grand  Prix  de  Rome 
(grahn  pree  deuh  rom) 

H 

Habanera 

(ah-bah-nay-rah) 
Homard 

(om-mar) 
Humoreske 

(hu-mo-resk) 


Incognito 

(een-ko-gnee-toh) 
Intermezzo 

(een-tayr-medz-zoh) 
lo  t'amo 

(eeoh  tah-moh) 


Libretto 

(lee-brayt-toh) 
Loge 

(lohzh) 
Lorgnette 

(lor-gnet) 

M 
Madrigal 

(mad-ree-gal) 
Maestro 

(mah-es-troh) 
Mazurka 

(mah-zoohr-kah) 
Minuet 

(mee-niieh) 
Mulattiere 

(mool-ah-tee-ay-ray) 

N 
Naive 

(nah-eev) 
Naivete 

(nah-eev-tay) 
Nocturne 

(nok-ttirn) 
Note  sensible 

(not  sahn-seebl) 


Obligate 

(ohb-lee-gah-toh) 
Ole 

(oh-lay) 
Opera  comique 

(op-pay-rah  kom-meek) 
Oratorio 

(oh-rah-to-reeoh) 
Orientale 

(o-ree-ahn-tal) 


Jettatore 

(j  ayt-tah-toh-ray ) 
Jota 

(non-tab) 


Largo 

(lahr-goh) 
Le  bon  Dieu 

(leuh  bohn  dyeuh) 
Libretti 

(lee-brayt-tee) 


Peste!  mon  garcon! 

(pest!  mohngar-sohn) 
Piquant 

(pee-kahn) 
Pizzicato 

(peetz-see-kah-toh) 
Polacca 

(poh-lahk-kah) 
Polonaise 

(pol-o-nehz) 
Prseludium 

praee-loo-deeoom) 

330 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Prelude 

(pray-liid) 
Premiere 

(preum-yair) 
Prestige 

(pres-teezh) 
Prix  de  Rome 

(pree  deuh  rom) 


R 
Recitative 

(reh-sit-euh-tiv) 
Renaissance 

(reuh-nehs-sahns) 
Ridi,  Pagliacci 

(ree-dee,  pahgl-yah-tshee) 
Role 

(rohl) 
Romanza 

(roh-mahn-tha)  or  (roh-mahn-za) 
Rondo 

(rohn-doh) 

S 
Saeters 

(say-teuhrs) 
Saga 

(sah-gah) 
Salterello 

(sal-tay-rel-loh) 
Sans-culottes 

(sahn-kii-lot) 
Sarafan 

(sah-rah-fahn) 
Scenario 

(shay-nah-reeoh) 
Scherzi 

(skayr-tsee) 

26 


Scherzo 

(skayr-tsoh) 
Siciliana 

(see-tsheel-ee-ah-nah) 
Signer 

(see-gnohr) 
Solfege 

(sol-fehzh) 
Sonata 

(soh-nah-tah) 
Sono  un  poeta 

(so-no  oon  po-ay-tah) 
Suite 

(sweet) 

T 
Tarantelle 

(tah-ran-tel) 
Toreros 

(to-ray-ros) 
Tortillas 

(tor-teel-yahs) 
Tour  de  force 

(toor  deuh  fors) 
Troches 

(trohks) 

V 

Valse 

(vals) 
Vaquero 

(vah-kay-ro) 
Vice  versa 

(vee-tshay-vair-sah) 
Virtuoso 

(veer-too-oh-soh) 

Viva    Vittorio    Emmanuele    Re 
d'ltalia 

(vee-vah  veet-to-reeoh  em-mah- 

noo-eh-lay,  ray  deetah-leeah) 


PROPER  AND   GEOGRAPHICAL  NAMES 


Abimelech 

(ah-bee-may-lek) 
Abruzzi 

(ah-broots-see) 
Academic 

(ah-kah-day-mee) 
Adalgisa 

(ah-dahl-j  ee-zah) 
Adam,  Adolph 

(ah-dahm  ah-dolf) 
Adina 

(ah-dee-nah) 
Adoniram 

(ad-don-nee-rahm) 
JEneid 

(ee-nee-id) 
Jttna 

(et-neuh) 
Afzelius 

(ahf-zay-leeoos) 
Aida 

(ah-ee-dah) 
Ajib 

(ah-jeeb) 
Aladdin 

(euh-lad-din) 
Alberich 

(ahl-bay-reek) 
Alboni 

(al-boh-nee) 
Alessandrovitch 

(al-les-san-dro-vitsh) 
Alfio 

(ahl-fee-oh) 
Alfredo 

(ahl-fray-doh) 
Alfven,  Hugo 

(ahlf-ven) 
Algiers 

(al-jeerz) 
Aliaferia 

(ah-leeah-fay-reeah) 
Al  maviva 

(ahl-mah-vee-vah) 
Almirena 

(ahl-mee-ray-nah) 


Alsace-Lorraine 

(al-zas-lor-ren) 
Alvarez 

(ahl-vah-reth) 
Alvaro 

(ahl-vah-ro) 
Alvise 

(ahl-vee-zay) 
Ambert 

(ahm-bair) 
Amelia 

(ah-may-leeah) 
Amiens 

(ah-meeahn) 
Amina 

(ah-mee-nah) 
Aminta 

(ah-meen-tah) 
Amneris 

(ahm-nay-rees) 
Amonosro 

(ah-monos-ro) 
Anacreon 

(euh-nak-ri-enhn) 
Anacreontic 

(euh-nak-ri-on-tik) 
Andalusia 

(an-deuh-loo-zheuh) 
Andalusian 

(an-deuh-loo-zheuhn) 
Angelo 

(ahn-jel-loh) 
Angeloni 

(ahn-j  ay-loh-nee) 
Angelotti 

(ahn-j  ay-lot-tee) 
Anitra 

(ah-nee-trah) 
Anna  Karenina 

(ahn-nah  kah-ray-nee-nah) 
Ansel  m 

(ahn-selm) 
Antonia 

(ahn-to-neeah) 
Aphrodite 

(ah-fro-deet) 
Arabi  Pasha 

(ah-rah-bee  pah-sheuh) 
332 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Aragon 

(ar-euh-gon) 
Arensky 

(ah-ren-sky) 
Ariege 

(ah-ree-ehzh) 
Armanini 

(ahr-mah-nee-nee) 
Armida 

(ahr-mee-dah) 
Arnheim  (Count) 

(ahrn-haeem) 
Arnstad 

(ahrn-shtat) 
Arsaces 

(ahr-zas) 
Artot,  Desiree 

(ar-toh,  day-zee-ray) 
Ascanio 

(ahs-kah-neeo) 
Ase 

(6h-seuh) 
Asturias 

(as-too-reeahs) 
Athanael 

(ah-tah-nah-el) 
Auber 

(oh-bair) 
Auerbach 

(aower-bahkh) 
Aulin,  Tor 

(oo-lin,  tor) 
Auvergne 

(oh-vairgn) 
Avoca 

(a-vo-ka) 
Avon 

(ay-veuhn)  or  (av-euhn) 
Azucena 

(ah-zoo-tshay-nah) 


Bach,  J.  S. 

(bahkh) 
Baculard  -Darnaud 

(bah-kii-lar-dar-no) 
Badini 

(bah-dee-nee) 
Bagasset 

(bah-gas-set) 
Baklanoff,  George 

(bah-klah-nof) 
Bakounin 

(bah-koo-neen) 


Balakireff,  Mill 

(bah-lah-kee-ref,  mee-lee) 
Balalaika 

(bah-lah-laee-kah) 
Baldassare,  L. 

(bahl-dahs-sah-ray) 
Balfe 

(balf) 
Balthazar 

(bal-ta-zar) 
Balzac 

(bal-zak) 
Barbaja 

(bahr-bah-eeah) 
Barbaroux 

(bar-bah-roo) 
Barbier,  Jules 

(bar-bee-yeh,  zhiil) 
Barezzi 

(bah-retz-zee) 
Barnaba 

(bahr-nah-bah) 
Barrere,  George 

(bar-rair,  zhorzh) 
Barrientos,  Maria 

(bahr-ree-en-tos,  mah-reeah) 
Bartholdy 

(bar-tol-day) 
Bartolo 

(bahr-toh-loh) 
Basilio,  Don 

(bah-zee-leeoh) 
Easily 

(bah-zee-lee) 
Bayreuth 

(bahee-roit) 
Beaumarchais 

(boh-mar-sheh) 
Beckmesser 

(bek-mes-sair) 
Beethoven 

(bay-to-vehn) 
Belcore 

(bel-ko-ray) 
Belgiocoso,  Prince 

(bel-joh-ko-soh) 
Bellini,  Vincenzo 

(bel-lee-nee,  veen-tshen-tso) 
Belvoix,  Flora 

(bel-vwah) 
Bendinelli 

(bayn-dee-nel-lee) 
Beppe 

(bep-pay) 

333 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Be  -levjLr-  Malrs-f  rr-s 

Be  _r'r  : : 


THE  LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Carmen  Cieca,  La 

IBMM  (hfcaj-kah,  lah) 

Carre,  Michel  Cilia 

dor-ray,  mee-shel)  (h*ed-lali) 

Carte,  D"'Oyly  Cio-Cio-San 

(kahr-tay,  doheelee)  (iAii  !•••  »um) 

Cartica,  Carlo  Circassian 

ObAr-tee-kah,  kahr-Ioh)  (aeqr-i  ta  «••) 

Carvalho  Claussen 

(kahr-vahrlafc)  (klafcodtaug 
Casals,  Pablo 

(kah-sahls,  pah-bb) 
Casselmann-Schumacher 


Castellor 

(kahs-tel-ta)  <y*trayn) 

Catania 

(kah-tah-nee-ah.) 
Cattorini 

(kaht-toh-ree-nee) 
Cavaletti,  Stefano 

(kah-vah4av-tee,  stay-fah-noh)  - 

_        ,.     .    T  .-  Commune 

Cayahen   Lma  (kom-mnn) 

(kah-vah-lee-ay-ree,  lee-nah)  Como  (Late) 

Cavaradossi  "  -^  _„ 
(kah- vah-rah-dos-see  ) 


Caucasian 

i  kaw-kay-snun) 
Ceylonese 

(sil-o-aeez)  Coppelia 
C  habrier,  E  m  manuel  (kop-pel-eeali) 

(shah-bree-ay,  em-man-r  Coppelius 
Chaminade,  Cecile  (ko-pel-eeuhs) 

(shah-mee-nat:  Cor  mo  n 
Champ -Ely  sees  (kor-mohn) 

(shahnz-el-lee-zay)  Corneille 
Charpentier,  Gxistave  (kor-oavee) 

(shar-pahn-teeay.  gus-tav)  Cosima 
C  her  ubi  ni  (ko-zee-mah) 

(kay-roo-bee-nee)  Costanzi 
Chesnokoff  (kofr-tahn-tzee) 

<-no-koff)  Cote -Saint -Andre 
C  hevalier  (koht-sahnt-ahn-dray) 

-  euh-val-vay)  Cothen 
Chezy  (kob-ten) 

(shay-zee)  Cottino 
Zhopin.  Frederic  Francois  Ocoht-tee-aofc) 

(sho-pahn.    fray-day-reek   frahn-   Cottrau 

swah)  (Ni  trrh) 

Christiania  Cours  de  la  Reine 

(kris-ti-ah-meuh)  (koor  deu  lah  ten) 

3S5 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Craigdarroch 

(krayg-dar-rokh) 
Cremona 

(kray-moh-nah) 
Crespel 

(kres-pel) 
Crimean 

(kry-mieun) 
Crobyle 

(kro-beel) 
Cui,  Cesar 

(kooee,  say-zahr) 
Cuzzoni 

(koot-zoh-nee) 
Czech 

(tshek) 
Czerny 

(tshayr-nee) 


Dagon 

(dag-gohn) 
D'Agoult,  Countess  of 

(dah-goo) 
Damrosch,  Walter 

(dam-rosh) 
Dante 

(dan-tay) 
Dapertutto 

(dah-payr-toot-toh) 
Dargomizsky 

(dahr-goh-miz-sky) 
Daudet 

(doh-deh) 
De  Bretigny 

(deu  breu-teegn-ee) 
Debussy,  Claude  Achille 

(deubiis-see,  klohd  a-sheel) 
De  Calatrava,  Marquis 

(deu  kal-lat-trav-va,  mar-kee) 
Dechez,  Louis 

(deuh-shay,  Iwee) 
De  Comminges,  Le  Comte 

(deu  kom-mahnzh,  leu  kohnt) 
Delacaria 

(day-lah-kah-reeah) 
Delacroix 

(deu-lak-krwa) 
De  Larderel,  Florestan 

(deu  lar-drel,  flo-res-tahn) 
De  Leuven 

(deu-le-ven) 
Delibes,  Leo 

(deu-leeb,  lay-o) 


Delilah 

(deu-lee-lah) 
De  Lisle,  Leconte 

(deu  leel,  leuhkohnt) 
De  1'Isle,  Rouget 

(deuh  leel,  roo-zheh) 
Delius,  Fritz 

(day-liyuhs,  fritz) 
Del  Pozo  (a)  Mochuelo  Antonio 

(dayl  potho,  motsh-oo-ay-lo  ahn- 

to-neeo) 
Delsarte  / 

(del-sart) 
De  Musset 

(deu-miis-say) 
De  Nerval,  Gerard 

(deu  nair-val,  zhay-rar) 
De  Nivelle,  Jean 

(deu  nee-vel,  zhahn) 
D'Ennery 

(den-ree) 
Denza 

(den-tsah) 
De  Regnier,  Henri 

(deuh  ray-gnay,  ahn-ree) 
De  Rezke,  Edward 

(deu  resh-kay,  ed-war) 
Desdemona 

(des-deu-monah) 
De  Segurola,  Andrea 

(day  say-goo-roh-lah,   ahn-dray- 

ah) 
Des  Grieux 

(day  greeyeu) 
De  Silva,  Don  Gomez 

(deu  seel-vah,  don  go-meth) 
Destinn,  Emmy 

(des-teen,  em-mee) 
Di  Capua 

(dee  kah-poo-ah) 
Didon 

(de-dohn) 
Dieuze 

(dyeuz) 
Di  Luna,  Count 

(dee  loo-nah) 
Di  Luna,  Garcia 

(dee  loo-nah,  gahr-theeah) 
Dmitri 

(dmee-tree) 
Dodon 

(doh-dohn) 
Donizetti,  Gaetano 

(don-nee-tzet-tee,  gah-ay-tah-no) 
336 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Dostoievsky,  Feodor 

(dos-toy-evs-ky,  fay-o-dor) 
Dram  men 

(drahm-men) 
Dufranne,  Hector 

(dii-fran) 
Dulcamara 

(dul-kah-mah-rah) 
Du  Locle,  Camille 

(dii  lokl,  kam-mee) 
Dumas,  Alexandre 

(du-mah,  al-lek-sahndr) 
Duphol,  Baron 

(du-fohl) 
Duprez 

(dii-pray) 
Dvorak,  Antonin 

(dvor-zhahk,  ahn-to-neen) 


E 

Eboli,  Princess 

(eb-bo-lee) 
Ellsner 

(els-nayr) 
Elvino 

(el-vee-no) 
Elvira 

(el-vee-rah) 
Enzo 

(en-tzo) 
Ernani 

(air-nah-nee) 
Ernesto 

(air-nes-to) 
Eros 

(er-ros) 
Escamillo 

(es-kah-meel-yo) 
Esclarmonde 

(es-klar-mohnd) 
Esus 

(ay-sus) 

F 

Falstaff 

(fal-staf) 
Farnese  Palace 

(fahr-nay-zay) 
Faure,  Gabriel 

(foh-ray,  gab-ree-el) 
Faust 

(fahoost) 


Faustina 

(fahoos-teenah) 
Fenice 

(fay-nee-tshay) 
Fernand 

(fair-nahn) 

Ferrari -Fontana,  Edoardo 
(fair-rah-ree-fon-tah-nah,    ed- 
dwar-do) 
Fiedler,  Max 

(fee-dlehr,  maks) 
Figaro  , 

(fee-gar-ro) 
Filina 

(fee-lee-nah) 
Fjord 

(fyord) 
Flavio 

(flah-veeo) 
Florestan 

(flor-es-tan) 
Florestano  de  Larderel 

(flor-es-tan-oh  day  lar-day-rel) 
Fokine 

(fo-keen) 
Formici,  Carlo 

(for-mee-tshee,  kahr-lo) 
Fortunatus 

(for-toonah-toos) 
Fournier,  Estelle 

(foor-nyay,  es-tel) 
France,  Antole 

(frahns  an-na-tol) 
Franck,  Cesar 

(frahn,  say-zar) 
Frascani 

(frahs-kah-nee) 
Frasquita 

(frahs-kee-tah) 
Frederi 

(fred-day-ree) 
Fremstad,  Olive 

(frem-stad,  ol-leev) 
Frias,  Duke  of 

(free-ahs) 
Frieka 

(free-kah) 
Friedheim,  Arthur 

(fred-haheem) 
Fryxell 

(friks-el) 
Fumaroli,  Maddalena 

(foo-mah-ro-lee,    mahd-dah-lay- 
nah) 
337 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

f*  Glinka,  Michail  Ivanovich 


Gabetti 

fefc-bavt-fee)  Godard,  Benja 

Gaelic  (go-dar. 

-- 


laY-ah-paUd) 
Goethe 


Goncourt 


.  J_, 

-Marie  Ipor-oiunni 

feJ  W  rnii^r-av)  Gorrio.  Tobui 

Garcia,  Rjtm6n  (gor-reeo,  to-beeaa) 

Gottfried 


Garibaldi 

Gottschalk,  Louis  If  orean 

mo-ro) 


Goucrir.  Fr«« 

VJ  -    _ 


Gautier.  Theophile 

(go-gcear,  tav-o-feeO  pMa-afc^w 

Gay. 


(pmh  imli-dos,  en-ree-fcay) 
Graveure,  Louis 
feim>  WM,  looee) 


cr^; 


!*••»  (grwh-nobl) 

Gcnmte  Grieg,  Kdvard 


Gerrine-Reacbe,  Jeanne  Grisi 

(fj*-t--lff? 

Gnxrand,  Ernst 

(0iee-TO,  airnst) 
Gustavus 


(gwen-do-teen) 

Gi'  -'  = 

:^:-i-i  H 

Halevy,  Geneviere 


Halevy,  Ludovic 


^. 

Giufio 

(hmHay-loo-yah) 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Halvorsen,  Johan 

(hahl-vor-aen,  yo-hahn) 
Handel 

(ban-del) 
Hapsal 

(hap-sal) 
Harlequin 

(hah-li-kwin) 
Havre 

(ahvrj 
Haydn 

(hahee-den) 
Heiddiger 

(hahee-dig-geuh) 
Heine,  Heinrich 

(hahinav,  hahin-rikh) 
Herbeck  " 

(hair-bek) 
Herodias 

(ay-ro-dvahs) 
Herold 

(hav-roli 
Hertfordshire 

(hert-ford-aheer    and    hart-ford- 

sht- 
Hiawatha 

(hai-euh-wo-theuh) 
Killer 

(hil-: 
Hjaltested,  Einan 

(jahl-teh-sted,  aee-nan) 
Hoffman 

fhof-man) 
Hof  mann,  Josef 

(hof-man,  yo-sef) 
Holtz 

(hohlta) 
Hornacuelos 

(hor-nah-kuay-los) 
Huttenbrenner 

(hut-ten-bren-nayr) 


Ibsen,  Henrik 

(ib-sen,  hen-rik) 
Illica,  Luigi 

(eel-lee-kah,  Iwee-jee) 
I  matra 

(ee-mah-trah) 
I  meretia 

fee-ma  y-ray-tiah) 
Inghilterra,  d' 

(deeng-eel-ter-rah) 


IppolitofF-Ivonoff 

(ip-pot-i-tcrf-i-Tab-noO 
Ismailia 

(ees-mahU-eeah) 
Isolde 

(i-zol-day) 
Ivan 

(ee-vahn) 
Izett 

(ec-«et) 
Izetti 

(ee-aet-tee) 


Jacobsen,  Sascha 

(yah-koU*,«l»iah) 
Janpolski 

(yahn-pol-akj) 
Jarnefelt,  Armas 

(yahr-nay-felt,  ahr-mahs) 
Jean 

(zhahn) 
Jean  de  Nivelle 

(zhahn  deu  nee-vel) 
Jenneval 

(zben-val) 
Jephthah 

(ihef-tah) 


(bo-say) 
Journal  des  Debats 

(xhoor-nal  day  day-bah) 
Julien 

(zhu-keahn) 


Kankowska 

(kahn-kow-eha) 
Karol.  Prince 

(kar-rol) 
Kashkin 

(kash-kin) 


(kaa-aah-va) 
Khedive 

(kay-deev) 
Kittay,  Tovio 

(kee-tay,  to-vyo) 
Kleinzach 

1  kLiheen-zahkh) 
Kli 


Klopstock 
(klop-stok) 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 


Kongsberg 

(kongs-bairg) 
Kosegarten 

(koh-z  ay-gar-ten) 
Krehbiel 

(kray-beel) 
Kreidler 

(kraheed-lehr) 
Kreisler 

(krahees-layr) 


Lablache 

(lab-blash) 
Lachner 

(lahkh-nayr) 
Lakme 

(lak-may) 
Lamartine 

(lam-mar-teen) 
Laschanska,  Hulda 

(lahsh-ahnskah,  hool-dah) 
Lavigna 

(lah-veegn-ah) 
Lazaro,  Hipolito 

(lah-tha-ro,  ee-pol-ee-to) 
Leila 

(layee-lah) 
Leipsic 

(laeep-seek) 
Lena,  Maurice 

(lay-nah,  mor-rees) 
Leoncavallo,  Bey 

(layon-kah-vahl-lo,  bay) 
Leoncavallo,  Ruggiero 

(layon-kah-vahl-lo,  ru-jay-ro) 
Leonore 

(lay-oh-noh-ray) 
Leonora 

(lay-o-no-rah) 
Lescaut 

(les-ko) 
Lesueur 

(leu-sii-eur) 
Leuven 

(leu-ven) 
Lichnowsky 

(lish-nov-sky) 
Lie,  Jonas 

(lee,  yo-nahs) 
Liebestod 

(leeb-es-toht) 
Liege 

(lyayzh) 


Lille 
(led) 

Lindorf 

(lin-dorf) 
Lindoro 

(leen-do-ro) 
Lipkowska 

(leep-kows-kah) 
Liszt,  Franz 

(list,  frantz) 
Lobkowitch 

(lob-ko-vich) 
Loch  Lomond 

(lokh  loh-mond) 
Lola 

(lo-lah)    : 
Lopez -Nunes 

(lo-peth-noo-nes) 
Lothario 

(lo-tah-reeo) 
Loti,  Pierre 

(lo-tee,  pyair) 
Lucca 

(look-kah) 
Lucerne,  Lake 

(lii-sairn) 
Lucia 

(loo-cheeah) 
Ludwig 

(liid-veegh) 
Lulli 

(lool-lee) 
Lyons 

(lee-hon) 

M 
Maddalena 

(mahd-dah-lay-nah) 
Madeleine 

(mad-len) 
Maeterlinck,  Maurice 

(met-air-lank,  mo-rees) 
Magdeburg 

(mahgd-btirgh) 
Majorca 

(mah-yor-kah) 
Manon 

(man-nohn) 
Manrico  of  Urgel 

(mahn-ree-ko  euv  oor-jel) 
Mantua,  Duke  of 

(mahn-tooah) 
Manzoni,  Alessandro 

(mahn-zo-nee,  ah-les-sahn-dro) 
340 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Marcel 

(mar-sel) 
Mardones,  Jose 

(mahr-do-nes,  ho-say) 
Margherita,  Queen 

(mahr-gay-ree-tah) 
Mariani 

(mah-ree-ah-nee) 
Mariette  Bey 

(mah-ree-et-ay  bay) 
Marina 

(mah-ree-nah) 
Mario 

(mah-reeo) 
Martinez 

(mahr-tee-neth) 
Martinmas 

(mah  [r]-tin-mas) 
Mascagni,  Pietro 

(mahs-kahgn-ee,  pee-e-tro) 
Massenet,  Jules  Frederic 

(mas-neh,  zhiil  fray-day-reek) 
Mattel,  Padre 

(maht-tay-ee,  pah-dray) 
Mattheson 

(mat-ti-sun) 
Matzenauer,  Margarete 

(mah-tzen-ow-ehr,  mahr-gah-ray- 

teh) 
Mayer,  Si  mon 

(mah-yair,  see-mon) 
Mayrhofer 

(mei-euhr-hoh-fayr) 
Mazzari,  Count 

(mahts-sah-ree) 
Mazzucato,  Alberto 

(mahtz-zoo-kah-to,  ahl-bair-to) 
Meath 

(meeth) 
Mecca 

(mek-kah) 
Meek,  Nadeshda  von 

(mek,  na-desh-dah  fon) 
Media 

(may-dee-ah) 
Mefistofele 

(may-fees-tofay-lay) 
Mehul 

(may-ill) 
Meilhac 

(may-lak) 
Mendelssohn 

(men-dels-sohn) 


Mendes,  Catulle 

(mahn-dehs,  kat-tul) 
Mephisto 

(may-fees-to) 
Mephistofeles 

(mef-is-tof-el-eez ) 
Messager,  Andre 

(mes-sah-zhay) 
Mercadante 

(mair-kah-dahn-tay) 
Mercedes 

(mair-thay-des) 
Merimee,  Prosper 

(may-ree-may,  pros-pair) 
Merrilies,  Meg 

(mair-ri-less,  meg) 
Mery 

(may-ree) 
Metz 

(metz) 
Meyerbeer 

(may-yair-bair) 
Micaela 

(mee-kah-ay-lah) 
Mignon 

(mee-gnohn) 
Milan 

(mi-lun  or  mi-ld,n) 
Mincio 

(meen-cho) 
Minkous 

(min-koos) 
Mi  mi 

(mee-mee) 
Minna 

(min-nah) 
Miracle,  Doctor 

(mee-rahkl) 
Mirate 

(mee-rah-tay) 
Missions  des  Etrangers 

(mees-syohn  days  ay-trdhn-zhay) 
Mistral,  Frederic 

(mees-tral,  fray-day-reek) 
Miura,  Tamaki 

(myoo-rah,  tah-mah-kee) 
Mochuelo 

(motsh-oo-ay-lo) 
Modest 

(mod-dest) 
Moldavia 

(mol-dah-veeah) 
Monongahela 

(meu-nong-eu-hee-leu) 


341 


Montagues 

(mon-teh-gyooz) 
Monte  Carlo 

(mon-tay  kahr-lo) 
Monte  di  Piet& 

(mon-tay  dee  pee-ay-tah) 
Monteaux 

(mohn-to) 
Monterone 

(mon-tay-ro-nay) 
Montmartre 

(mohn-martr) 
Montsalvat 

(mohn-sal-vah) 
Moulmein 

(mool-maeen) 
Moussorgsky,  Modest 

(moos-sorg-sky,  mod-dest) 
Mozart 

(mot-sart) 
Miihlhausen 

(mul-how-sen) 
Miirger,  Henri 

(miir-zhay,  ahn-ree) 
Musette 

(mii-zet) 
Myrtale 

(meer-taJ) 

N 
Nadir 

(nad-deer) 
Nagasaki 

(nag-gas-sah-kee) 
Nanki  Poo 

(nahn-kee  poo) 
Nedda 

(ned-dah) 
Nemorino 

(nay-mo-ree-no) 
Neva 

(nav-vah) 
Nibelungen 

(neebel-lung-en) 
Nicias 

(nee-see-ahs) 
Nicklausse 

(nik-lows) 
Nielsen 

(neel-son) 
Nietzsche 

(neet-sheh) 
Nilakantha 

(nee-1  ah-kahn-tah) 


Nordraak 

(nor-drahk) 
Norina 

(no-ree-nah) 
Nor  ma 

(nor-mah) 
Novello 

(no-vel-lo) 
Nuremberg 

(noo-rem-bergh) 

O 

Odeon,  Theatre 

(o-day-ohiTtay-ahtr) 
Offenbach,  Jacques 

(of-fen-bahkh,  zhahk) 
Oise 

(wahz) 
Olitska 

(o-leets-kah) 
Olivieri,  Allesio 

(o-lee-vyeh-ree,  ahl-lay-seeoh) 
Olshansky 

(ol-shahn-sky) 
Olympia 

(o-limp-i-euh) 
Onaway 

(on-euh-way) 
Ophelia 

(oh-fee-li-euh) 
Opie 

(oo-pi) 
Oppezzo 

(op-paytz-so) 
Orpheus 

(or-fyoos) 
Orsini 

(or-see-nee) 
Ortona 

(ohr-toh-nah) 
Ortrud 

(or-trood) 


Paganelli 

(pag-gah-nel-lee) 
Paganini 

(pah-gah-nee-nee) 
Paisiello 

(pahee-see-ello) 
Palestrina 

(pah-les-tree-nah) 
Palmetto 

(pahl-met-toh) 
342 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Pamiers 

(pam-myay) 
Pan  Antonin 

(pahn  ahn-to-neen) 
Paphnuce 

(pahf-niis; 
Pasquale,  Don 

(pahs-kwah-lay) 
Passy 

(pas-see) 
Pasta,  La 

(pahs-tah,  lab) 
Pastia,  Lillas 

(pahs-teeah,  leel-lahs) 
Patti 

(paht-tee) 
Penzance 

(pen-zans) 
Pepoli,  Count 

(pay-po-lee) 
Pere-ia-chaise 

(pair-lah-shaiz) 
Perrin 

(pair-rahn) 
Pesaro 

(pay-zah-ro) 
Petrie,  George 

(pee-try) 
Petrograd 

(pay-troh-grad) 
Petrofsky 

(pay-trov-sky) 
Phanuel 

(fah-nu-el) 
Phtha 

(thah) 
Piave 

(pih-ah-vay) 
Pierne,  Gabriel 

(pih-air-nay,  ga-brih-el) 
Pinsuti 

(peen-soo-tee) 
Pizarro 

(Sp.  pee-thar-ro) 
(It.  peet-zar-roh) 
Planer 

(plan-ayr) 
Plotinus 

(plo-toe-noos) 
Pogany,  Willy    • 

(pog-ahny,  veely) 
Pollione 
(pol-leeo-nay) 


Polovtsian 

(pol-ov-tsee-an) 
Polverosi,  Manfredi 

(pol-vay-rosee,  mahn-fray-dee) 
Polynesia 

(pol-i-nee-zia) 
Ponchielli,  Amilcare 

(pon-  kee-el-lee,  ah-meel-kah-ray) 
Pougin 

(poo-zhan) 
Prague 

(prahg) 
Prevcst,  Abbe 

(pray-vo,   ab-bay) 
Prinetti 

(pree-net-tee) 
Promethean 

(pro-mee-thi-eun) 
Provengal 

(provdhn-sal) 
Provence 

(pro-vahns) 
Puccini,  Giacomo 

(poot-tshee-nee,  jah-ko-mo) 
Punchinello 

poon-tshee-nel-lo'* 
Pushkin 

(push-kin) 

R 

Rachmaninoff,  Sergei 

<rahk-mahn-i-nof,  sair-gay-iy) 
Radames 

(rah-dah-mes) 
Raiding 

(rahee-ding) 
Ramphis 

(rahm-fees) 
Reber,  Henri 

(ray-bair,  dhn-ree) 
Recio,  Marie 

(ray-thio,  ma-ree) 
Renato 

(ray-nah-to) 
Renaud,  Mother 

(reuh-no) 
Rennes 

(ren) 
Riccardo 

(reek-kahr-do) 
Ricordi 

(ree-kor-dee) 
Ricordi,  Tito 

(ree-kor-dee,  tee-to) 

343 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Rigoletto 

(ree-go-let-to) 
Rimsky-Korsakoff,  Nicholas 

(rim-ski-kor  -sah-kof ,  nik-olahs) 
Rivas,  Duke  of 

(ree-vahs) 
Rizza,  Delia 

(reetz-za,  dayl-lah) 
Rode 

(rohd) 
Roderigo 

(ro-day-ree-go) 
Rodolfo 

(ro-dol-fo) 
Rodolphe 

(ro-dolf) 
Romaine,  Margaret 

(ro-men,  mar-geuh-ret) 
Romani 

(ro-mah-nee) 
Roncole,  Le 

(rohn-kol,  leuh) 
Rosina 

(ro-zee-nah) 
Rosselti,  Dante  Gabriel 

(ros-set-tee,    dahn-tay   gah-bree- 

ayl) 

Rossini,  Gioachino  Antonio 

(ros-see-nee,  joah-kee-no   ahn-to- 

neeo) 
Rothier,  Leon 

(ro-teeyay,  lay-ohn) 
Royer 

(rwa-yay) 
Rubini 

(roo-bee-nee) 
Rubinstein,  Anton 

(roo-bin-staeon,  ahn-ton) 
Rubinstein,  Nicholas 

(roo-bin-staeen,  nee-ko-lahs) 
Rue  de  la  Paix 

(rii  deuh  lap  paih) 
Rue  de  Rivoli 

(rii  deuh  ree-vo-lee) 
Ruiz 

(rooeeth) 
Rung,  Henrik 

(ruhnk,  hen-rik) 


Sabine 

(say-bin) 
Sadko 

(sahd-ko) 


Saint  fitienne 

(sahnt  ayt-teeyen) 
Saint -Germain 

(sahn-shair-mahn) 
Saint  Germain-du-Val 

(sahn  zhair-mahn-dti-val) 
Saint-Saens,  Camille 

(sahns-sohns,  kam-meeyeh) 
Saint  Sulpice 

(sahn  sill-pees) 
Sainte  Clotilde 

(sahnt  klo-teeld) 
Salamon 

(sal-lah-mohn) 
Salle  Pleyel 

(sal  pleh-yel) 
Salome 

(sah-lo-may) 
San  Carlo 

(sahn  kahr-lo) 
San  Mose 

(sahn  mo-zeh) 
Sant'  Agata 

(sahnt  ah-gah-tah) 
Sant'  Andrea  del  Valle 

(sahnt    ahn-dray-ah    dayl    vahl- 
lay) 
Santuzza 

(sahn-tootz-sah) 
Sapho 

(saf-fo) 
Sardou 

(sar-doo) 
Sarto 

(sahr-to) 
Sarto,  Andrea 

(sahr-toh,  ahn-dray-ah) 
Saucier 

(soh-syay) 
Sayn-Wittgenstein,  Princess  of 

(saeen-vit-ghen-staeen) 
Scala,  La 

(skah-lah,  lah) 
Scarpia,  Baron 
(skahr-peeah) 
Scharwenka,  Xaver 

(shar-ven-kah,  kza-yair) 
Schaunard 
(sho-nar) 
Schiller 

(shil-lehr) 
Schlemil 
(shlay-mil) 


344 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Schober 

(shoh-bayr) 
Schopenhauer 

(shoh-pen-how-ayr) 
Schubert 

(shoo-bert) 
Schumann 

(shoo-mahn) 
Schure,  Edmond 

(shii-ray,  ayd-mohn) 
Schwiller,  Jean 

(shveel-lehr) 
Schwob,  Marcel 

(shvob,  mar-sel) 
Scott,  Henri 

(skot,  ahn-ree) 
Scriabine,  Alexander 

(skree-ah-been,  al-eks-ahn-dehr) 
Scribe 

(skroeb) 
Seidel,  Toscha 

(sy-del,  toshah) 
Seine 

(sain) 
Semiramis 

(say-mee-ram-mees) 
Seville 

(say-veel) 
Sgambati 

(sgahm-bah-tee) 
Shemakhan 

(shem-ah-kan) 
Shuckburgh 

(shuhk-bry) 
Sibelius,   Jean 

(see-bel-eeoos,  zhahn) 
Siebel 

(see-bel) 
Sierra  Leone 

(see-ehr-rah  lay-o-nay) 
Silvestre,  Armand 

(seel-vestr,  ar-mdhn) 
Silvio 

(seel-veeo) 
Simon  Boccanegra 

(see-mon  bok-kah-nay-grah) 
Sinding,  Christian 

(zind-ing,  kris-tian) 
Sjogren,  Emil 

(shay-gren,  ay-meel) 
Sligo 

(slaee-go) 
Smetana 

(smay-tah-nah) 


Solveg 

(sol-vaygh) 
Sonzogno 

(son-zo-gno) 
Sophocles 

(sof-o-kleez) 
Sorek 

(so-rek) 
Sou  m  met 

(soom-meh) 
Sparafucile 

(spah-rah-foo-tshee-lay) 
Stamaty 

(stam-ah-ty) 
Sternberg,  Constantine  von 

(stairn-bairg,  kon-stan-teen  fon) 
Stoltzing 

(shtoltz-ingh) 
Stracciari,  Riccardo 

(strahtsh-shah-ree,  reek-kahr-do) 
Stransky,  Josef 

(strahn-skee,  yo-sef) 
Strassburg 

(strahs-boor) 
Strawinsky,  Igor 

(strah-vin-sky,  ee-gor) 
Stuttgart 

(shtilt-gart) 
Suzuki 

(soo-zoo-kee) 
Svendsen,  Johan 

(svendsen,  yo-hahn) 


Tadolini 

(tah-do-lee-nee) 
Tara 

(tah-rah) 
Tasso 

(tahs-so) 
Teatro  Carcano 

(tay-ah-tro  kahr-kah-no) 
Teatro  dal  Verme 

(tay-ah-tro  dahl  vair-may) 
Tel-el-Kebir 

(tel-el-kay-beer) 
Telramund 

(tel-ra-moont) 
Tempe,  Vale  of 

(tern-pay) 
Teyte,  Maggie 

(tayt) 
Thaddeus 

(thad-di-uhs) 
345 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


Thalberg 

(tahl-bairgh) 
Theatre  de  la  Monnaie 

(tay-ahtr  deuh  lah  mon-neh) 
Theatre  des  Italiens 

(tay-ahtr  days  ee-tal-lyahn) 
Theatre  Lyrique 

(tay-ahtr  lee-reek) 
Theatre  an  der  Wien 

(tay-ahtr  an  der  veen) 
Theslof,  Jean 

(tes-lof,  zhahn) 
Thomas,  Ambroise 

(to-mah,  ahn-brwaz) 
Thuringia 

(too-rin-ji-euh) 
Titania 

(tee-tah-neeah) 
Titoff,  Nicolai  Alexander 

(tee-tof,     nee-ko-laee    al-ek-zan- 

dehr) 
Titurel 

(tee-too-rell) 
Tolstoi,  Leo 

(tols-toi,  layo) 
Tommasini 

(tom-ma-see-nee) 
Toninello 

(to-nee-nel-lo) 
Tonio 

(to-neeo) 
Torre  del  Lago 

(tor-ray  dayl  lah-go) 
Tosca 

(tos-kah) 
Tosti,  Francesco  Paolo 

(tos-tee,    frahn-tshes-ko   pah-oh- 

loh) 
Trebelli 

(tray-bel-lee) 
Troldhaugen 

(trold-how-gehn) 
Troll 

(trol) 
Tschaikowsky,  Peter  Iljitch 

(tshai-kov-sky,  pay-tehr  il-yitsh) 
Tuileries 

(twee-leuh-ree) 
Turcoing 

(ttir-kwahn) 
Turgenieff 

(toor-ghen-yef) 
Turiddu 

(too-reed-doo) 


Turin 

(tyoo-rin) 
Tyrolese 

(tee-ro-lay-zay) 


Valles,  Jules 

(val,  zhiil) 
Valois,  Elizabeth  of 

(val-lwa) 
Valverde 

(vahl-vair-day) 
Van  Campenhout,  Francois 

(van  kahn-pahn-oo,  frahn-swah) 
Varela,  Don 

(vah-ray-lah,  don) 
Varela,  Senor 

(vah-ray-lah  segh-or) 
Vaslin,  Professor 

(vas-lahn) 
Venusberg 

(vay-mis-bergh) 
Verdi,  Giuseppe 

(vair-dee,  joo-sep-pee) 
Verga 

(vair-gah) 
Vermeland 

(vair-may-land) 
Vesine,  Le 

(vay-zee-nay,  leuh) 
Viardot-Garcia,  Pauline 

(vee-ahr-do-gar-thee-ah) 
Viborg 

(vee-borg) 
Victoire 

(veek-twahr) 
Villa  Medici 

(veel-yah  may-dee-chee) 
Villani,  Luisa 

(veel-lah-nee) 
Villi,  Le 

(veel-lee,  lay) 
Villoing 

(veel-lwahn) 
Violetta 

(veeo-layt-ta) 
Viscaya 

(vees-kah-yah) 
Vivette 

(vee-vet) 
Volga 

(vol-gah) 
Voltaire 

(vol-tair) 


346 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 


w 

Waez 

(vah-ez) 
Wagner,  Richard 

(vahg-neh) 
Walewski,  Count 

(vah-lev-skee) 
Walhalla 

(vahl-hahl-lah) 
Walther 

(vahl-tayr) 
Watteau 

(vat-to) 
Weber 

(vay-behr) 
Wechwotinez 

(vesh-voh-teen-etz) 
Weimar 

(vaee-mahr) 
Weingartner,  Felix 

(vaeen-gart-nehr,  fay-leeks) 
Werther 

(vair-tair) 
Wesendonck 

(vay-sen-donck) 
Wiederhold 

(vee-dehr-holt) 
Wien 

(veen) 
Wieniawski 

(vyen-yahf-ski) 
Wilhelnij 

(veel-helmy) 
Wilhelm  Meister 

(vil-helm  maees-tehr) 
Wolfram 

(vol-frahm) 
Wronski,  T. 

(vron-sky) 

27 


Wurm 
(voorm) 


Ya-zoo 

(yah-zoo) 
Yradier,  Sebastian 

(errah-deeay,  say-bahs-teeahn) 
Ysaye,  Eugene 

(ee-zah-ay,  euh-zhen) 


Zachau 

(zah-kow) 
Zandt,  Marie  van 

(zahndt,  ma-ree  van) 
Zarskf,  Erma 

(tsahr-skah,  air-mah) 
Zazulak 

(tsah-tsoo-lak) 
Zelazowa-Wola 

(tsel-ah-tswo-ah-vo-lah) 
Zenatello,  Giovanni 

(tzay-nah-tel-lo,  jo-van-nee) 
Zentay,  Mery 

(tsahn-tay,  may-ree) 
Zimmerman 

(tsim-mehr-mahn) 
Zuni 

(zoo-gnee) 
Zuniga 

(zoo-nee-gah) 
Zurga 

(zoor-gah) 
Zurich 

(tzu-rikh) 
Zwanziger 

(zvahnt-zig-ayr) 
Zwyny 

(tzvee-nee) 


INSTRUMENTAL 


Adagietto  (ah-dah-jet-toh),  from  "  L/ Arlesienne  ".Bizet  185 

"Aiida"  (ah-ee-dah),  March  from Verdi  65 

Air  for  G  String Bach  13 

American    Fantasy Herbert  297 

A  Mules  (ah  rmihl),  from  "Impressions  d'ltalie" 

— Charpentier  235 

Andante,  from  Fifth  Symphony Beethoven  81 

Andante  (ahn-dahn-tay),  from  String  Quartet 

— Tschaikowsky  266 

Andante  from  Violin  Concerto Mendelssohn  104 

Anitra's  (ah-nee-trah)  Dance, 

from  "Peer  Gynt"  Suite   Grieg  253 

Arkansaw  Traveler,  The Folk-melody  303 

"L'Arlesienne"  (lar-lay-zee-en),   Prelude Bizet  185 

Ase's  (ah-say)  Death,  from  "Peer  Gynt"  Suite.  .Grieg  252 

Ave  Maria Schubert  94 

B 

Ballet  (bal-leh),  from  "The  Snow  Maiden" 

— Rimsky-Korsakoff  282 

Ballet  Music,  from  "Faust" Gounod  164 

Ballet  Music  from  "Rosamunde" Schubert  95 

Barcarolle  (bahr-kah-rol),  from  "Tales  of  Hoffman" 

—Offenbach  174 

Berceuse  (bair-seuz),  cradle  song Chopin  112 

Berceuse Faure  240 

Bridal  Procession Grieg  251 


Campanella  Etude  (kahm-pah-nel-lah  ay-tiid) . .  Liszt  121 

Capitan,  El   (el  kah-pee-tahn) Sousa  297 

Capriccio  Espagnol  (kah-preets-shoh  es-pahn-yol) 

—Rimsky-Korsakoff  280 

"Carmen,"  Prelude Bizet  191 

348 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Carnaval  Remain  (kar-nah-val  ro-mahn) 

Overture Berlioz     127 

Chant  sans  Paroles  (shahn  sahn  pah-rol) 

— Tschaikowsky    265 
Chasseuresses,  Les  (shas-sur-es,  lay),  from  "Sylvia" 

— Delibes     178 

Circassian  Dance,  from  "La  Source" Delibes     177 

Consolation  (Song  without  Words) Mendelssohn     101 

Cortege  de  Bacchus  (kor-tehzh  deu  bak-us), 

from  "Sylvia"     :    Delibes     178 

Cortege  du  Serdare  (kor-tehzh  dii  sair-dair), 

from  "Caucasian  Sketches" Ippolitoff-Ivanoff    284 

Cygne,  Le  (leuh  seegn),  "The  Swan" Saint-Saens    226 

D 

Danse  Bacchanale  (dahns  bak-kah-nal), 

from  "Samson  and  Delilah" Saint-Saens  229 

Danse  Chi  noise  (dahns  shee-nwaz), 

from  "  Casse-Noisette  "  Suite Tschaikowsky  272 

Danse  des  Mirlitons  (dahns  day  meer-lee-tohn), 

from  "Casse-Noisette"  Suite Tschaikowsky  272 

Danse  macabre  (dahns  mah-kabr) Saint-Saens  227 

Dixie Emmett  305 

Dove,  The  (La  Paloma) Yradier  312 

Dying  Poet,  The Gottschalk  287 

E 

1812  Overture Tschaikowsky  270 

Elegie  (ay-lay-zhee) ,  from  "Les  Erinnyes".  .  .Massenet  217 

En  Bateau  (ahn  bat-to),  from  "Petite  Suite" .  . Debussy  238 

Espana    (es-pahgn-ah) Chabrier  233 

F 

Fantasie -Impromptu Chopin  117 

Farandole,  from  "2nd  L'Arlesienne  Suite" Bizet  186 

Festival  at  Bagdad,  from  "Scheherazade" 

— Rimsky-Korsakoff  282 

Finale  from  Violin  Concerto Mendelssohn  104 

Finlandia  (fin-land-yeuh) Sibelius  257 

First  movement,  from  Symphonic  Pathetique 

—Tschaikowsky  273 

349 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

"Forza  del  Destine"  (fort-zah  del  Desteeno), 

Overture  and  selections,  from Verdi  74 

Funeral  March Chopin  113 

Funeral  March  of  a  Marionette  (mar-ryon-net) 

—Gounod  167 

H 

Hark,  Hark,  the  Lark Schubert  88 

Home,   Sweet  Home Bishop  311 

Humoreske    (hu-mo-resk) Dvorak  245 

Humoreske Tor  Aulin  256 

Hungarian    Fantasy Liszt  12  i 

Hungarian  March, 

from  "The  Damnation  of  Faust" Berlioz  If 9 

Hungarian  rhapsodies,  Nos.  2  and  12 Liszt  123 

I 

Indian  Lament ' Dvorak  242 

Intermezzo  (een-tayr-medz-zoh),  from  "Carmen" 

-Bizet  191 

Intermezzo,  from  "Cavalleria  Rusticana".  .  .Mascagni  208 

Intermezzo,  from  "Naila"  ("La  Source") Delibes  177 

In  the  Hall  of  the  Mountain  King, 

from  "Peer  Gynt"  Suite Grieg  252 

In  the  Village,  from  "Caucasian  Sketches" 

Ippolitoff-Ivanoff  284 

K 

Kamennoi-Ostrow   (kam-men-oy  os-trov) .  Rubinstein  260 

L 

Largo  (lahr-goh),  from  "New  World"  Symphony 

—Dvorak  244 

Largo,  from  "Xerxes" Handel  6 

Last  Hope,  The Gottschalk  287 

Last  Rose  of  Summer,  The Folk-song  317 

Liebestraum  (lee-bays-trowm) Liszt  122 

Liebestod  (leeb-es-tohd),  from  "Tristan  and  Isolde" 

—Wagner  147 

"Lohengrin,"  Prelude Wagner  142 

"Lohengrin,"  Introduction  to  Act  III Wagner  143 

350 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

M 

''Madame  Butterfly,"  Selections  from Puccini  203 

Magic  Fire  Scene,  from  "Die  Walkiire" Wagner  151 

Manzanilla,  The Folk-dance  312 

Marche  Militaire   (marsh  mee-lee-tair) ,  from   "Suite 

Algerienne" Saint-Saens  230 

Marche  Slave  (marsh  slav) Tschaikowsky  270 

Massa's  in  de  Cold,  Cold  Ground Foster  309 

Meditation,  from  "Thais" Massenet  222 

Melody  in  F Rubinstein  258 

Men  of  Harlech - Traditional  321 

Mighty  Lak'  a  Rose Nevin  294 

Minuet,  from  Sonata  op.  31,  no.  3 .Beethoven  81 

Miss  McLeod's  Reel Folk-dance  316 

Moment  Musical  in  F  minor Schubert  97 

Morning,  from  "Peer  Gynt"  Suite Grieg  252 

My  Old  Kentucky  Home Foster  309 

N 

Narcissus  (nar-sis-seuhs) Nevin  293 

New  World  Symphony  (Largo) Dvorak  244 

Nocturne  (nok-tiirn)  inE  Flat Chopin  111 

Nocturne  inE  Minor Chopin  111 

O 

Old  Black  Joe Foster    309 

Old  Folks  at  Home  (Swanee  Ribber) Foster    310 

Orientale  (o-ree-ahn-tal) Cui     284 

"Orpheus  in  Hades"  (or-fyoos  in  hay-deez),  Overture 

—Offenbach     171 
O  Thou  Sublime  Sweet  Evening  Star, 

from  "Tannhauser" Wagner     140 

Overtures  and  Orchestral  Preludes: 

See    "Arlesienne,    L";    "Carmen";    "Carnaval 

Remain";     "1812";     "Forza     del    Destino"; 

"Lohengrin,"   Act  I;  "Lohengrin,"  Act  III; 

"Orpheus  in  Hades";  "Rienzi";  "Ruy  Bias"; 

"Semiramide";     "Tancredi";    Tannhauser"; 

"Traviata,  La,"  Act  I;  "Traviata,  La,"  Act 

III;  "William  Tell." 


Paloma,  La  (Ian  pah-lo-mah) Yradier    312 

351 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Pilgrims'  Chorus,  from  "I  Lombard!" Verdi  49 

Polonaise  (pol-o-nehz),  from  "  Boris  Godounow" 

^•Moussorgsky  279 

Polonaise  in  A  Major Chopin  112 

Polonaise  in  A  Flat  Major Chopin  113 

Prseludium   (praee-loo-deeoom) Jarnefelt  257 

Preludes:     See  Overtures 

Prelude  in  A  Flat Chopin  114 

Prelude  in  C  Sharp  Minor Rachmaninoff  285 

Prize  Song,  from  "Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg". . . 

— Wagner  148 
R 

Ride  of  the  Valkyries,  from  "Die  Walkiire"  .  .Wagner  150 

"Rienzi"  Overture Wagner  136 

Rigoletto  (ree-go-let-to)  Paraphrase Liszt  121 

Robin  Adair Folk-melody  315 

Roman  Carnival  Overture  (Carnaval  Remain) .  Berlioz  127 

Romance Svendsen  255 

Rondo  Capriccioso Mendelssohn  102 

Rosamund  Ballet  Music Schubert  95 

Rosary,  The Nevin  293 

Rouet  d'Omphale,  Le  (leu  roo-ay  dohn-fahl) 

—Saint-Saens  227 

Rufty -Tufty Folk-dance  314 

Ruy  Bias  (ruee  blah)  Overture Mendelssohn  103 

S 
Scherzo  (skayr-tsoh),  from  incidental  music  to 

"A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream" Mendelssohn  99 

Scherzo  Valse  (skayr-tsoh  vals) Chabrier  234 

Sellenger's  (sel-lin-jeur)  Round Folk-dance  314 

"Semiramide"   (se-mir-a-mi-dee) ,  Overture.  .  .Rossini  24 

Serenade,  from  "Impressions  d'ltalie".  .  .  .Charpentier  235 
Sinbad's  Voyage,  from  "Scheherazade" 

— Rimsky-Korsakoff  281 

Soldiers'  Chorus,  from  "Faust" Gounod  164 

Son  y  Botel Traditional  321 

Spinning  Song  (song  without  words) Mendelssohn  101 

Spring Grieg  253 

Stars  and  Stripes  Forever,  The Sousa  296 

Swan,  The  (Le  cygne) .Saint-Saens  226 

Swanee  Ribber  (Old  Folks  at  Home) Foster  310 

Sweet  Kate Folk-dance  '  314 

352 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Symphonic  Pathetique,    First  movement  from 

— Tschaikowsky  273 

T 

"Tancredi"  (tan-cray-dee)  Overture Rossini  18 

"Tannhauser"  (tahn-hoy-zer),  Overture Wagner  140 

Thunderer,    The Sousa  297 

To  a  Wild  Rose MacDowell  288 

To  the  Springtime Grieg  254 

Toreador  and  Andalusian  (an-deuh-loo-zhuhn), 

from  "Bal  Costume" Rubinstein  261 

"Traviata,  La"  (trah-vee-ah-tah),  Prelude  to  Act  I 

-Verdi  59 

"Traviata,  La,"  Prelude  to  Act  III Verdi  61 

Triumphal  Entry  of  the  Boyars  (bwa-yar).Halvorsen  256 

"Turkey  in  the  Straw" arranged  by  Guion  302 

U 

Unfinished    Symphony,    1st   Movement.  .  .  .Schubert  91 

Unfinished  Symphony,  2nd  Movement.  . .  .Schubert  91 

V 

Valse  Brillante  (vals  bree-ydhnt) Chopin  109 

Valse  Caprice  (vals  kaprees) Rubinstein  261 

Valse  des  Fleurs  (vals  day  fleuhr), 

from  "Casse-Noisette"  Suite Tschaikowsky  272 

W 

Waltz  of  the  Hours,  from  "Coppelia" Delibes  177 

Waltz  in  A  Flat Chopin  110 

War  March  of  the  Priests,  from  "Athalia" 

— Mendelssohn  105 

Washington   Post,    The Sousa  296 

Wedding  March,  from  incidental  music  to 

"A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream".  ..  .Mendelssohn  100 

William  Tell,  Overture Rossini  25 


VOCAL 

A 

Ah!  Bello-a  me  ritorna  (ah  bel-lo  ah  may  ree-tor-nah), 

from    "Norma" Bellini      42 

Ah!  fors'  e  lui  (ah  fohrs  ay  loo-ee), 

from  "La  Traviata" Verdi      60 

Ai   nostri  moriti  (ahee  nos-tree  mohn-tee), 

from  "II  Trovatore" Verdi      58 

Air  du  tambour -major  (air  dii  tdhm-boor-ma-zhor), 

from  "Le  Caid" .  .Thomas     155 

Alia  vita  che  t'arride  (ahl-la  vee-tah  kay  ta-ree-deu), 

from  "Ballo  in  Maschera" Verdi      73 

Amour,  viens  ma  faiblesse,  from  "Samson  and  Delilah" 

— Saint-Saens     229 
Ancora  un  passo  (ahn-koh-rah  oon  pahs-soh), 

from  "Madam  Butterfly" Puccini    202 

Annie  Laurie Folk-song     320 

Anvil  Chorus,  from  "II  Trovatore" Verdi       56 

Arkansaw  Traveler,  The Folk-melody     303 

At  Dawning Cadman     296 

A  te,  O  cara  (ah  tay  oh  kah-rah), 

from  "I  Puritani" Bellini      43 

Ave  Maria  (ah-vay  mah-reeah) Gounod     166 

Ave  Maria,  from  "Otello" Verdi       68 


Barcarolle  (bahr-kah-rol), 

from  "Tales  of  Hoffman" Offenbach     174 

Believe  me  if  all  those  endearing  young  charms 

—Folk-song    316 
Bell  Chorus,  Come  on;  Let's  go, 

from  "Pagliacci" Leoncavallo    212 

Bell  Song,  "Ou  va  la  jeune  Hindoue?"  (ooh  vah  lah 

zheun  ahn-dii),  from  "Lakme"" Delibes     179 

Bel  raggio  lusinghier  (bel  rah-joh  loo-zeen-ghee-yayr), 

from  "Semiramide" Rossini      24 

Bridal  Chorus,  from  "Lohengrin" Wagner     143 

354 


THE    LURE    OF   MUSIC 

Brown  October  Ale,  from  "Robin  Hood".  .De  Koven     297 
By  the  Waters  of  Minnetonka Lieurance     295 

C 

Canzone   di  salice  (kahn-zoh-nay  dee  sah-lee-tshay), 

from    "Otello" Verdi       68 

Card  Scene;  La  mort!  j'ai  bien  lu  (lah  mohrt!  zhay 

beeahn  lu),   from   "Carmen" Bizet     189 

Caro  norne  (kah-roh  noh-may)) 

from  '.'Rigoletto" Verdi       51 

Casta  diva  (kahs-tah  dee-vah), 

from  "Nonna" Bellini      41 

Celeste  Aiida  (tsay-les-tay  ah-ee-dah), 

from  "Aiida" Verdi      63 

Chanson  Bachique  (shahn-shon  bah-sheek), 

from  "Hamlet" Thomas     158 

Che   gelida  manina    (kay   jel-lee-dah   mah-nee-nah), 

from  "La  Boheme" Puccini     195 

Come  on,  Let's  go.     Bell  chorus  from  "Pagliacci" 

— Leoncavallo     212 

Comin'  Through  the  Rye Folk-song     319 

Confutatis    maledictus     (kon-foo-tah-tees    mah-lay- 

deek-toos),  from   "Requiem" Verdi      68 

Connais  tu  le  pays?  (kon-neh  tii  leu  pay-ee), 

from  "Mignon " Thomas     156 

Cortigiani  vil  razza  dannata  (kohr-tee-jah-nee  veel 

rahts-sah  dahn-nah-tah),  from  "  Rigoletto  "..  Verdi       52 

Couldn't  Hear  Nobody  Pray Arr.  by  Burleigh     307 

Cujus  animam  (koo-joos  ah-nee-mahin), 

from  "Stabat  Mater" Rossini      27 

D 

D'amor  sull'  ali  rosere  (dah-mor  sool  lah-lee  roh-zay), 

from  "II  Trovatore" Verdi      57 

Danny  Deever Damrosch     294 

Deep  River,  Folk  Song Arr.  by  Burleigh     306 

Depuis  le  jour  (deu-piiee  leu  zhoor),  from  "Louise" 

— Charpentier    237 

Dio  dell'  or  (deeoh  dayl  lor),  from  "Faust" Gounod     163 

Dio  possente  (deeoh  pohs-sen-tay),  from  "Faust" 

—Gounod     163 
Di  Provenza  il  mar  (dee  pro-ven-tzah,  eel  mahr), 

from  "La  Traviata" Verdi      60 

355 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Di  quella  pira  (dee  kwel-lah  pee-rah), 

from  "II  Trovatore" Verdi  57 

Dixie Emmett  305 

Doll's  Song,  from  "Tales  of  Hoffman" Offenbach  173 

Dream,  A Bartlett  292 

Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes Folk-song  313 

Dunque  io  son  (  duhn-quay  yo  sohn), 

from  "Barber  of  Seville" Rossini  21 

E 
Ecco  ridente  in  cielo  (ek-ko  ree-den-tay  een  tshee-ay- 

loh),  from  "Barber  of  Seville" Rossini       19 

Elegie  (ay-lay-zhee),  from  "Les  Erinnyes".  .  .Massenet    217 
Ella  giammai  m'amo  (el-lah  jam-mahee  mah-mo), 

from  "Don  Carlos" Verdi      75 

E  lucevan  le  stelle  (ay  loo-tshay-vayn  lay  stayl-lay), 

from    "Tosca" Puccini    200 

Eri  tu  macchiavi  (er-ree  too  mahk-kee-ah-vee), 

from  "Ballo  in  Maschera" Verdi      73 

F 

Flower  Song:  La  fleur  que  tu  m'avais  jetee  (lah  fletn* 

kev  too  mavay  zhay-tay),  from  "Carmen".  .Bizet     188 

Flow  Gently,  Sweet  Afton Folk-song     318 

Funiculi,    funicula    (foo-nee-koo-lee,   foo-nee-koo-lah) 

—Folk-song    322 

H 

Habanera  (ah-bah-nay-rah) :  L'amour  est  un  oiseau 
rebelle  (lah-moor  eht  uhn  wah-zoh  ray-bel), 

from  "Carmen" Bizet     187 

Hallelujah  Chorus,  from  "The  Messiah" Handel        8 

Home,  Sweet  Home Traditional    311 

I 
II  balen  del  suo  sorriso  (eel  bah-layn  dayl  soo-o  sohr- 

ree-soh),  from  "II  Trovatore" Verdi      56 

II  est  doux,  il  est  bon  (eel  eh  doo  eel  eh  bohn), 

from  "Herodiade" Massenet    217 

II  lacerato  spirito  (eel  lah-tshair-rah-to  spee-ree-to), 

from  "Simon  Boccanegra" Verdi      72 

Infelice,   e  tuo  credevi   (een-fay-lee-tshay  ay  too-oh 

kre-day-vee),   from    "Ernani" Verdi      50 

356 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Inflammatus  (een-flahm-mah-toos), 

from  "Stabat  Mater" Rossini      27 

lo  son  docile  (yoh  sohn  doh-chee-lay), 

from  "Barber  of  Seville" Rossini      20 

John  Anderson,  My  Jo Folk-song     319 

L 
La  calunnia  e  un  venticello  (lah  kah-loon-neeah  eh  oon 

vayn-tee-tshel-loh),  from  "Barber  of  Seville" 

—Rossini       21 
La  donna  e  mobile  (lah  don-nah  em-mo-bee-lay), 

from  "Rigoletto"    Verdi      53 

Lakme,  ton  doux  regard  (lak-may  tohn  doo  reuh-gar), 

from  "Lakme" Delibes     179 

L'amour  est  une  vertu  rare  (la  moor  eht  un  vair-tii 

rahr),  from  " Thais" Massenet    222 

Largo  al  factotum  (lahr-go  ahl  fahk-to-toom), 

from  "Barber  of  Seville" Rossini       19 

Last  Rose  of  Summer,  The Folk-song    317 

La  vergine    degli   angeli    (lah   vair-jee-nay   day-glee 

ahn-j ay-lee),  from  "Forza  del  Destino" Verdi      74 

Loch  Lomond Folk-song    318 

M 
Mad  scene:    Ardon   gl'incensi  (ahr-dohn  gleen-sen- 

zee),  from  "  Lucia  di  Lammermoor  " Donizetti      34 

Massa's  in  de  Cold,  Cold  Ground Foster    309 

Meeting  of  the  Waters,  The Folk-song    317 

Mefistofeles'  Serenade:   Tu  che  fai  1'addormentata 

(too  kay  fahee  lah-dah-men-tah-tah),  from  "Faust" 

— Gounod     165 
Micaela's  air:  Je  dis  que  rien  (zhev  dee  key  ree  aim), 

from  "Carmen". Bizet     189 

Mighty  Lak'  a  Rose Nevin     294 

Minstrel  Boy,  The Folk-song     317 

Mi  par  d'udire  ancora  (mee  pahr  doo-dee-ray  ahn- 

koh-rah),  from  "Les  Pecheurs  des  Perles".  .  .  .Bizet     184 
Miserere:   Ah,  che  la  morte  ognora  (ah  kay  lah  mor- 

tay  oh-gnoh-rah) ,  from  "II  Travatore" Verdi      57 

Mon  coeur  s'ouvre  a  ta  voix  (mohn  keuhr  soovr  ah 

tah  vwah),  from  "Samson  and  Delilah."  Saint-Saens     229 
Morte  d'Otello   (mor-tay  do-tel-lo),  from   "Otello" 

-Verdi      69 

357 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Musetta's  Waltz  Song,  from  "La  Boheme". .  .Puccini     197 

My  Love's  an  Arbutus Folk-song    315 

My  Old  Kentucky  Home Foster    309 

N 
Nobody  Knows   de  Trouble  I've   Seen, 

Folk-song: Arr.  by  Burleigh    307 

Nume,  custode  e  vindice  (noo-may  koos-toh-day  ay 

veen-dee-tshay),  from  "Aiida" Verdi      64 

O 

O  de'verd'  anni  miei  (O  day  vaird  ahn-nee  mee-ayee), 

from  "Ernani" Verdi      50 

Old  Black  Joe Foster    309 

Old  Dan  Tucker Emmett     304 

Old  Folks  at  Home  (Swanee  Ribber) Foster    310 

On  the  Road  to  Mandalay Speaks     295 

O  patria  mia  (oh  pah-tree-ah   meeah),  from  "Ai'da" 

— Verdi      65 

O  sole  mio  (oh  sol-lay  meeoh) di  Capua    322 

O  terra,  addio   (oh  tair-rah,  ad-deeo),  from  "Ai'da" 

—Verdi      67 
O  Thou  Sublime  Sweet  Evening  Star, 

from  "Tannhauser" Wagner     140 

P 

Paloma,  La  (pah-lo-mah,  lah) Yradier    312 

Perigliarti  ancor  languente   (pay-reegl-ahr-tee  ahn- 

koh-rah  lahn-gwen-tay),  from  "  II  Trovatore  "  .  Verdi       56 

Pilgrims'  Chorus,  from  "Tannhauser" Wagner      49 

Pirate    Song Gilbert    290 

Polacca:'  lo  son  Titania  (yoh  sohn  Titanyah), 

from  "Mignon" Thomas     157 

Possente  Phtha  (pohs-sen-tay  tah),  from  "  A'ida"  .Verdi       64 
Pour  jamais  ta  destinee  (poor  zham-meh  tah  des-tee- 

nay),  from  "La  Traviata" Verdi       60 

Printemps  qui  commence,  from  "Samson  and  Delilah" 

— Saint-Safins    228 
Prologue:  Si  puo  (see  pwo),  from  "Pagliacci" 

— Leoncavallo    211 

Q 

Quanto  e  bella  (kwahn-toh  eh  bel-lah), 

from  "  L'Elisir  d'Amore" Bellini      31 

358 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Quartet:    Bella  figlia  dell'  amore  (bel-lah  fee-leeah 

del  ah-mor-ay),  from  "Rigoletto" Verdi      54 

Quel  est  done  ce  trouble  charmant?  (kel  eh  dbhnk 

seuh  troobl  shar-mahn),  from  "La  Traviata ".  Verdi      60 

Questa  o  quella  (kways-tah  oh  kwayl-lah), 

from  "Rigoletto" Verdi      51 

Qui  la  voce  (kwee  lah  voh-tshay),  from  "I  Puritani" 

— Bellini      44 

R 

Recondita    armonia    (reh-kohn-dee-tah   ahr-moh-nee- 

ah),  from  "Tosca" Puccini  199 

Regnava  nel  silenzio  (ray-gnah-vah  nel  see-len- 

tzeeo),  from  "  Lucia  di  Lammermoor  " ....  Donizetti  33 
Rejoice,  for  Our  Saviour  still  liveth, 

from  "Cavalleria  Rusticana" Mascagni  207 

Robin  Adair Folk-song  315 

Rondo  Gavotte;  Me  voici  (mev  vwah-see), 

from  "Mignon" Thomas  157 

Rosary,  The Nevin  293 

S 

Salve!  dimora  (sahl-vay  dee-moh-rah),  from  "Faust" 

—Gounod  164 

Santa  Lucia  (sahn-tah  loo-tsheeah) Cottrau    322 

Sempre  libera  (sem-pray  lee-bay-rah), 

from  "La  Traviata" Verdi      60 

Serenade Schubert       96 

Sextette:  Chi  mifrena  il  mio  furore?  (kee  mee-fray- 
nah  eel  meeoh  foo-roh-ray),  from  "Lucia  di  Lam- 
mermoor"  Donizetti  33 

Shout  All  Over  God's  Heaven Folk-song    307 

Sing,   Smile,   Slumber Gounod     167 

Si,  vendetta  (ven-det-tah),  from  "Rigoletto".  .  .Verdi      53 
Solenne  in  quest'  ora  (so-len-nay  een  kwest  o-rah), 

from  "  Forza  del  Destine" Verdi 

Solveg's  Song,  from  "Peer  Gynt"  Suite Grieg 

Song  of  the  Flea Moussorgsky 

Songs  My  Mother  Taught  Me Dvorak 

Spirito  gentil  (spee-ree-to  jen-teel), 

from  "La  Favorita" Donizetti      36 

Spring  Song,  from  "Natorna" Herbert     297 

Stein  Song Bullard    294 

359 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Suoni  la  tromba  (soo-o-nee  lah  trom-bah), 

duet,  from  " I  Puritan!" Bellini  44 

Swanee  Ribber  (Old  Folks  at  Home) Foster  310 

Swing  Low,  Sweet  Chariot Folk-song  307 

T 

Tacea  la  notte  placida  (tah-tshay  lah  not-tay  plah- 

see-dah),  from  "II  Trovatore" Verdi      55 

Te  Deum  (tay  day-oom) , Buck    291 

Tourne,    tourne,    miroir    (toorn,    toorn,   mee-rwar), 

from  "Tales  of  Hoffman" .Offenbach     174 

Tu  che  fai  Paddormentata  (too  kay  fahee  lah-dor- 

men-tah-tah),  Mefistofele's  serenade  from  "Faust". 

—Gounod     165 
Tu  qui,  Santuzza  (too  qwee,  san-tut-za), 

from  "Cavalleria  Rusticana" Mascagni    208 

Tutte  le  feste  al  tempio  (tu-tay  lay  fes-tay  ahl  temp- 

yo),  from  "Rigoletto" Verdi      52 

U 

Una   furtiva   lagrima   (oo-nah  foor-tee-vah  lah-gree- 

mah),  from  "L'Elisir  d'Amore" Donizetti      32 

Una  vergine  un  angiol  di  Dio  (oo-nah  vair-jee-nay 
oon    ahn-johl    dee    deeo),    from    "La    Favorita" 

— Donizetti       35 

Una  voce  poco  fa  (oo-nah  vo-tshay  po-ko  fah), 

from  "Barber  of  Seville" Rossini      20 

Un  bel  di  (oon  bel  dee),  from  "Madam  Butterfly" 

—Puccini    202 

Uncle  Ned Foster    308 

V 

Verrano  a  te  sull'aure  (vay-rahr-noh  ah  tay  sul  ohr- 

ray),  from  "  Lucia  di  Lammermoor  " Donizetti      33 

Vesti  la  giubba  (ves-tee  lah  joob-bah), 

from  "Pagliacci" Leoncavallo    213 

Vien  diletto  (veeayn  dee-lay-toh),  from  "I  Puritani" 

— Bellini      44 
Vision  fugitive  (vee-zeeyohn  fii-zhee-teev), 

from  "Herodiade" Massenet    218 

Vissi   d'arte   e   d'amore    (vees-see   dahr-tay  ay   dah- 

moh-ray),    from    "Tosca" Puccini    200 

360 


THE    LURE    OF    MUSIC 

Voce  di  primavera  (vo-tshay  dee  pree-mah-vay-rah) 

—Strauss      22 
Voi  lo  sapete  (voy  loh  sah-pay-tay), 

from  "Cavalleria  Rusticana" Mascagni     207 

Voila  done  la  terrible  cite  (vwa-lah-dohnk  lah  tair- 

reebl  see-tay),  from  "Thais" Massenet    222 

Votre  toast  (vohtr  tohst), 

Toreador's  song,  from  "Carmen" Bizet     188 

W 

Waltz  Song:  Je  veux  vivre  (jeu  veu  vivrheu), 

from  "Romeo  and  Juliet" Gounod     166 

Waltz  Song:    Rondinella  leggiera,  from  "Mireille" 

—Gounod     166 
Willow  Song,  from  "  Otello  " Verdi      68 

Y 
Ye  Banks  and  Braes  o'  Bonnie  Doon Folk-song    320 


THE  END 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara  College  Library 
Santa  Barbara,  California 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
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